


Disturbed Artist

by Copperbell111



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-21 18:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copperbell111/pseuds/Copperbell111
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a struggling art student. Francis Bonnefoy is his idol and famous artist. On a trip to the Louvre in Paris. Arthur catches his attention in the worst way possible, by spilling wine all over him. Francis is taken with the young artist and offers to tutor him if he will be his life model that summer. Where can this lead?





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Kirkland, a struggling young Artist in the year 1986 is madly in love with Francis Bonnefoy, a famous Artist and his Idol. He accidentally spills wine on him at an exhibition...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song to listen to I'd recommend "Such a shame" by Talk Talk.

Disturbed Artist

Quietly the young man carrying his sketchbook stood in the Louvre gallery looking at all the amazing work. It was the year 1986, and a great year for art and fashion in the capital of France. The Mona Lisa, amongst other things was something he had come to see, and as he stood there taking a few photos along with a crowd of others, that's when he saw him. He was walking through the gallery with his agent, to his exhibition which was a special one off for the Lourve, and the newspaper reporters were gathering round to interview him. This was the great Francis Bonnefoy, and the young man admiring the Mona Lisa, was really there to see him. You see Arthur Kirkland had loved the work of Bonnefoy for a long time and even owned a few of his paintings. All he wanted to do was speak to his idol, but it was kind of impossible with all the reporters and people around. He was an aspiring artist himself but always found himself failing. He especially wanted to get into Eton university, but each time he tried they said he was just not good enough. He didn't know exactly why he'd gone to the Bonnefoy exhibition that day, maybe for inspiration, or to speak to the great master himself. However swamped by crowds of reporters and fans, Arthur felt unable to do anything. He sighed and watched as Bonnefoy introduced his exhibition in a special area of the gallery.

"Mr Bonnefoy… Mr Bonnefoy" cried a female reporter standing nearby "It must be a great honour to have your work displayed alongside the Mona Lisa. How do you feel about this?"

"I am extremely honoured that the Louvre feels that my work is important enough." He replied. "It has long been a dream of mine to have my work in such a prestigious gallery"

Serveral other reporters rushed forward, knocking Arthur over, so that he dropped his sketchbook, sadly someone trampled all over it and ruined the sketches. By the time he got it back it was absolutely ruined. There was a bit of a fuss and someone helped him to his feet. Bonnefoy watched the scuffle from the podium, wondering what was going on. He saw the young man with his sketchbook get knocked down and stared at him for a little while. Arthur noticed but shied away, embarrassed about what had happened, and took a few steps back into the crowd, as Bonnefoy was asked more questions by the reporters.

"Mr Bonnefoy…" One asked him. "Can you talk us through some of your works?"

"But of course…" He replied "I paint in a classical style, but add my own twist to it, usually something in the picture that does not belong there or should not belong there. I enjoy the human form immensely. I have three new pictures painted that I call "L'absolute" they are beautiful life paintings of a young man I sometimes like to paint, he poses for me…"

Soon everyone went through to the gallery, reporters and visitors alike, and right at the end Arthur Kirkland who just wanted to see the beautiful paintings Bonnefoy had created and maybe if he could get a chance to speak to him. Of course that was going to be impossible what with so many people around and so many reporters.

He went into the gallery and stood in front of the three paintings Bonnefoy called "L'absolute". They were absolutely incredible, painted in a sort of bluish colour, beautifully crafted work, and the figure posing for the life drawing was an incredibly attractive young man. Arthur stared at the paintings for a while, and sighed, overwhelmed by their aesthetic beauty. For a moment he wished that he could be the life model, but that was a pipe dream. That was never going to happen and was just a fantasy, but it was something he'd thought about for a long time. Bonnefoy had been his favourite artist ever since he was a boy. He'd been to a few of his exhibitions but this was the first time the artist himself was present. There was a musical background playing as people mused the paintings. Arthur thought he recognised it as "Such a Shame" by one of his favourite bands "Talk Talk". That surprised him a little because he was thinking maybe Bonnefoy liked French music more. He was just wandering around in a sort of dream when he turned around and bumped into none other than Bonnefoy who was standing there with his agent drinking a large glass of red wine, and when Arthur bumped into him, the wine spilled all over the artists cream coloured suit and stained it horribly all over the arm and down the front.

He stood there in shock, looking at his clothes and back to Arthur, who was in more shock than he was.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry Mr Bonnefoy…" He replied, absolutely mortified at what he'd accidentally done. "I didn't mean it… I was just admiring your paintings of "L'absolute" I'm so sorry!" He said.

"It is fine… " Bonnefoy replied, taking off the jacket. "But now I have to change. I have another suit in my car… " He said, hardly looking at Arthur at first but then he suddenly stopped when his eyes caught Arthur's.

"I didn't mean that I am so sorry…" Arthur wailed. Realising he'd made the biggest mistake of his life he ran out of the gallery and out of the Lourve entirely, running outside to get away from what he'd just done. Eventually he sat by the pyramid, feeling emotional and out of breath. Why had he come here again? To speak to the great Francis Bonnefoy? To ask him for tips on what to do to get into University? Well he'd completely humiliated himself now, and covered Bonnefoy in red wine that probably wouldn't come out and then would he end up paying the bill? He didn't know. He sat there with his scuffed and ruined sketchbook, feeling very sorry for himself. Yes coming to the Louvre that day was probably not the best idea he'd ever had.

This was not good. Frustrated, Arthur felt tears sting his eyes and cheeks. As he looked at what used to be carefully drawn sketches in his sketchbook, it just got worse and worse. Everything he'd worked on for the last few months was ruined. Beautiful portraits and life drawings, still life, animals, everything… each and every sketch was ruined. Even one he'd taken a lot of time on, a sketch of his favourite idol, the man he'd just covered in red wine, Francis Bonnefoy.

"Aw… I'm such an idiot!" He wailed, as the sketchbook fell to the ground. All Arthur could do was cry, this was not how he wanted his day to turn out. What he didn't realise was that his sketchbook was picked up by someone and that someone was now looking at his work.

"This is rather good work you know…" The smooth French voice uttered. "I am especially impressed the portrait of me. You really caught my eyes."

In surprise and shock Arthur stood up, as he realised that Francis Bonnefoy was the one looking at his completely ruined sketchbook.

"Mr Bonnefoy?" He gasped and took a few steps back. He could feel his face going completely red. "Uhhh…." Was all he could say, after all Francis was his idol, and coming this close to him was sort of overwhelming.

"Are these your sketches young man?" Francis asked with a smile. Arthur nodded and then looked to the ground nervously.

"They…they were trampled on… completely ruined…."

"They are very good." Francis replied. He found himself staring at the young man again as he stood there looking nervous. "What's your name?"

"Kirkland… Arthur Kirkland."

"Hm… from Angleterre right?"

Arthur nodded. He wanted to tell him actually he was Angleterre… England, but would Bonnefoy understand that? He wasn't sure, but the things he'd heard about his idol were interesting and made him wonder if Bonnefoy was like him.

"I've been watching you." Francis replied. "I am taken with your eyes, you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen." He said, and this made Arthur blush.

"Thank you Mr B..Bonnefoy." He replied in a shy way. "I um… I came here today because I… " He stammered, and took a breath. "Because I wanted to ask you for tips on how I could g…get into university… "

Francis smiled softly, looking at the young man before him. "I could give you a few tips but… wouldn't you prefer to have me as a tutor?"

Arthur looked up from the ground, trembling a little. "You…you would do that?" he gulped nervously "Really?"

"Really." He replied with a grin. "Your portrait of me was Magnifique… I am impressed…" He said "I saw you were looking at the paintings "L'absolute" in there…weren't you? When you covered me in red wine." He said with a chuckle.

"It was… one of the most incredible set of three paintings I've ever seen Mr Bonnefoy." Arthur replied "I hear you know the young man well."

"Oh… quite well, Antonio, the model, is from Spain." He said. "But you have more exquisite bone structure, you would make a fine model… I think."

"What?" Arthur asked shocked. He was trembling a lot by now. Had the Great Bonnefoy just said he would make a fine model? "Oh th…thank you Sir…"

"So how about it, would you like for me to be your tutor?"

"I …certainly would Mr Bonnefoy… does it cost much?"

"For you…its free." Francis replied. "I knew as soon as I saw you, that you would make a great life model. So I offer you free tuition… if you will be my life model for this summer. What say you?"

Arthur stood there in shock. He was certainly going to be free all that summer so he could do this, but what was going on? It was like a dream come true for him.

"Uhh…. Yes!" He said quickly. He was so nervous that he must have sounded eager or desperate or something.

"Very well…" Francis replied handing him back his ruined sketch book. "Come to my studios in Montmartre, first thing in the morning. I will be expecting you." He replied handing him a business card with his phone number and address on it. "Shall we say 8am?"

"Yes Sir…" Gulped Arthur as Francis took a few steps closer to him, so he could almost touch him. He could smell his French perfume, and there was just something so lovely about him, and Arthur found it hard to control himself. He tried to disguise his apparent attraction but it was a bit useless. Francis could see that he was very much attracted to him. Next thing he knew Francis tucked a finger under his chin and tipped his head up. "You have very beautiful eyes you know… very beautiful." He whispered. With a wink he took his leave and went back into the Louvre after all he had an exhibition on.

Arthur stood there completely overwhelmed, holding his sketch book and the card that Francis had given him, those words echoing in his head.

"You have very beautiful eyes you know…"

"I must be dreaming…" Arthur mumbled to himself. He looked at the card and no he wasn't dreaming, he really was going to be tutored in art and life drawing by his lifetime idol Francis Bonnefoy… could life get any better?


	2. The Feeling that we Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur ends up in the middle of a Breakup scenario between Francis and Antonio, but is it quite what it seems?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend you listen to Tracy Ullmans version of "They don't know about us" as an accompaniment to this.

The next morning, Arthur Kirkland made his way to the address in Montmartre he was told to go to. He was quite nervous but also excited that he would be working with a man he'd idolised since childhood. It was like a dream come true for him. Arriving at the property he could see that it was a beautiful old building. At the front was Bonnefoy's own gallery, where he made and sold his own works. Arthur tried the door and it was open, so he went inside. He couldn't see anyone in there and so he waited a few moments, looking round at all the beautiful artworks Bonnefoy had on sale. There were paintings and sculptures and works of modern art, that were just incredible, as if plucked out of natures own mind. He became fascinated by a small sculpture of two males entwined in an embrace, one was older and one younger, and the younger one seemed to have been caught in the older one's arms, but it was obviously more than just that. The artist had captured a moment, an emotionally charged exchange between two people who were in love. The sculpture practically screamed that out. He knew that Monsieur Bonnefoy was gay, and he'd never seen gay romance captured quite so perfectly.

"Can I help you?" Came a voice from behind him. There was a young man there who seemed to be on his way out.

"Oh… I do beg your pardon…" Arthur replied. "Monsieur Bonnefoy asked me to come around this morning…"

"You would be Arthur then." The young man replied. "I'm Antonio. Pleased to meet you." He said and extended a hand. Arthur reciprocated and shook his hand too.

"Antonio… you're the model in the paintings, aren't you? L'absolute."

"That's right." He replied. "Come on, I'll show you to the studio. Francis is expecting you."

"Oh, thank you." He replied, "Have you worked for Mr Bonnefoy a long time?"

"A few years." Antonio replied as he led Arthur to an old-fashioned cargo lift and pressed the third floor button. "But I don't want to work for him anymore…" He said and then went strangely quiet as if he wanted to say something but was deliberately keeping quiet. Arthur picked up on this and started to feel a little worried about it.

"Why? I mean… what's the problem?"

Antonio sighed. "The longer you know that man… well you'll soon see what the problem is."

The lift stopped, and he opened the cargo door. "He's waiting for you." He indicated. "Good luck."

"Thanks, but…aren't you coming in too?"

"No." Antonio replied. "It was nice to meet you Arthur." He said and waved a little as the lift went down.

"Antonio!" Called a voice from the next room. "Is that you? Antonio?"

Francis Bonnefoy appeared at the doorway, dressed in a patterned over-elaborate shirt and black pants, his hair falling in soft curls over his shoulders. Arthur looked surprised and nervous in his presence and gulped a little.

"No… just m.. me… Mr Bonnefoy… Sir…" He stammered.

The artist stood in the doorway gazing at him for a moment and glancing behind him at the lift going down. He sighed a little at first but then indicated to Arthur to follow him. "Thank you for coming Mr Kirkland, and welcome to my studio." He said "Did Antonio show you here?"

"Yes… he… well he said he…. That is…"

"What?"

"Well I asked him how long he'd worked for you and he said something odd… that he didn't want to work for you anymore. Is…is everything alright Sir…?"

Francis stopped and looked at him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen. "It really is not your concern Mr Kirkland." He said softly. "Antonio and I were…or at least I thought…."

"Were you together?" Arthur asked and then wished he hadn't said anything. He hadn't meant to get so personal.

"No. No we weren't together. It was a misunderstanding on my part… and Antonio does not forgive easily." He said and continued to show Arthur around the studio. Young Arthur felt as if he'd stumbled into a breakup scenario between Francis and Antonio, or had he got that wrong? Either way, it didn't feel comfortable. He let Francis show him around the areas they would be working. It was an enormous studio with multiple rooms. There was half finished work everywhere, lots of sketches and materials and props, and he smell of the place was like freshly mixed oil paints and dust.

"When you pose for me, I will not make you do anything you are uncomfortable with." Francis said "Despite what Antonio may have told you I am really not that kind of person."

"Antonio didn't tell me anything…" Arthur replied.

"He didn't?" Asked Francis rhetorically. "Alright… um… but as I was saying… I will not make you do anything you feel uncomfortable with. If you don't like certain poses or whatever, you just say so and we'll try something else."

"Alright." Arthur replied.

"Now… You Anglais, you like your cup of tea, non?" Asked Francis "I will make some for you. How do you like it?"

"Er… milk and no sugar."

"Coming right up Monsieur Kirkland, or can I call you Arthur?"

"Oh yes… that would be alright." Arthur replied.

"And you call me Francis from now on, seeing as we will be working together." He said with a smile.

"Of course, Mr Bonnefoy… I … I mean Francis."

"Sit down at the table, make yourself comfortable. I will only be a moment." He said and left to go to the little kitchen. Francis put the radio on in the kitchen while he was making some tea and music blared out everywhere, it was "They don't know" by Tracy Ullman. Arthur sat down and sang along to the music a little but couldn't help being drawn to some of the beautiful unfinished works that were all around him. They were so passionate, full of emotion. It was no wonder that Bonnefoy's work was so popular with the masses. He picked up a painting and was looking at the brushwork when he heard a small noise emitting from the kitchen and it didn't sound right. He stood outside the door, which was open just a little and he could see that Francis was standing there looking out of the window. His body language seemed wrong, and it was like he was shaking a little, and Arthur thought he heard what sounded like a little sob. Was he crying? Was he upset? Was that why he'd turned the radio on? Was it so Arthur wouldn't hear him cry? The young artist felt his heart turn over in his chest. He didn't know quite what to say or do, or even if he should say or do anything at all. He couldn't help but feel upset for him. He heard the kettle boil and Francis was making the tea, so in anticipation of him exiting the kitchen, Arthur quickly sat down and acted like he hadn't seen what he had just seen.

"Here you are…" Francis said as he put the tray down on the table. "I hope you like croissants too." He said as he put a few of them down for Arthur to eat. He sat down opposite him and took a sketch book from the drawer next to him.

"I would like to see what kind of work you do. I mean… your sketch book was magnifique but I would like to see your other works." He said as he began to sketch Arthur's face. "Your problem I think isn't your ability because you draw very well Mr Kirkland, and you have good technique."

"Oh…" said Arthur blushing a little. He looked at Francis' eyes and they were a little red, he'd tried to disguise it but it was obvious he had been crying. Arthur wanted to say something because his heart was pounding and he just wanted to comfort him somehow. But how would the great Bonnefoy respond to something like that? He might tell him to leave him alone. Arthur was too nervous to say or do anything. Instead he just continued the conversation. "Um…so.. what would you say my er… problem is?"

"You need to put passion into your work…" Francis replied. "Sometimes you will see a work, and the techniques are no different to anyone elses, and yet that work has something special about it, and that is passion." Francis said. "I see it in you, I know you have it, and I am going to show you how to bring it out in your work. I believe that if you find your passion then you will most definitely get into the university you so desire."

Arthur nodded and drank his tea. He was feeling increasingly upset for Francis. In his mind he imagined that somehow he and this Antonio had been in a relationship and had just broken up or something. He had obvioiusly been crying over him when he was in the kitchen and trying to get on with things as though it didn't matter, but it did matter. Arthur searched Francis' eyes as he spoke and watched as his hands deftly sketched a portrait of him. As Francis looked up, he saw such a deep thoughtful and passionate look on Arthur's face. "Hold that look." He said as he sketched. "It is beautiful."

"I have… one question …Francis…" Arthur said, feeling tears stinging his own eyes again. "Did you… um…" he began, and drew a sharp intake of breath that made Francis suddenly look up. 

"What?" Asked Francis looking at him, the emotion prevalent in his beautiful eyes, his gentle face seemed so deeply sad.

"Were you in love with… him?"

"Oh… that… that… doesn't matter. Not now." Francis said, trying to brush it off. "You don't need to be concerned about th…"

He didn't get to finish his answer because Arthur burst into tears, not a flurry of emotion but a gentle weeping, and he placed his hands over his eyes, gently sobbing, not meaning to, but it happened. Francis gazed at him in wonder, and got a box of tissues, offering them to him.

"I'm so sorry." Arthur said wiping his tears. "I didn't mean to, I just couldn't stop …"

"Why are you apologising? It's alright…" Franics replied.

"I just get upset seeing you like that…" He said "I shouldn't but… you've been my idol since I was a young boy. I upsets me to know that you're hurt."

"Ah…" Francis said with a little nod. "I was right about you… you are passionate." He said "But you don't need to worry for me… " He said softly. "These things happen in life… you are too young to know. Sometimes a thing can be very one sided."

"One sided? You loved him…"

"And he didn't love me back. Antonio has a partner in Spain, and I got the wrong end of the stick, I thought he liked me and eventually he would forget about his partner. I was wrong. I was very wrong."

"It only ever hurts that way…" Arthur replied, trying to get a grip. Why did he have to cry now? Why couldn't he have just bottled it? With his idol watching him so intensely it was hard to keep things to himself, because Francis had this way of bringing the emotions out of him so easily.

Francis reached across the table and held his hand for a moment as if he somehow understood. "Thank you Arthur." He whispered. "You will be a great artist one day. I will show you everything I know… and… you've shown me there are such things as kindness and empathy in the world." He said, if a little overwhelmed at what had just happened. Why was this young man interested and in fact bothered by what was happening in his life? As the song "Feels like heaven" by Fiction Factory blared out on the radio, Francis took young Arthur in his arms and hugged him. Arthur put his arms around him and stroked his soft curls.

"If… you want to cry Francis…" he uttered "It's alright."

He didn't say a word but Arthur felt wet drops on his shoulder as he held him. He felt as if he could hold him like that forever.


	3. The Naked Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you are going to pose nude for an Artist, well...what did you think was going to happen?

“Forgive me.” Francis said as he pulled away from Arthur’s shoulder. “I hope I haven’t overstepped the mark…” He said taking a tissue and wiping his eyes.   
“No… no of course not.” Arthur said, still concerned for him. “In fact that was a beautiful thing you did… to open up to me like that…”   
“Ah…” sniffed Francis, trying to pull himself together. “I barely know you, and I am here crying in front of you like this… heaven knows what you think of me…”   
“I cried in front of you too.” Arthur replied. “It’s alright.”   
Francis smiled back at him and picked up his sketch book with shaky hands. He needed a moment to get himself together, but resumed the drawing. “Believe it or not I feel better after crying.” He said as he quickly continued with it. “Not many people would have listened to me.” He said. “Thank you.”   
Arthur smiled a little and watched him draw with such skill and passion. His admiration for Francis had only grown more, he seemed to be everything he’d imagined and more. A passionate and attractive man, someone who understood what it was all about. It kind of made his heart swell.   
“I know nothing about you Arthur… you should tell me about yourself…please I would like to know.” Francis said. He smiled a tearful smile that Arthur just adored.   
“Oh… there’s not much to tell.” I am Arthur Kirkland, born in London, I’m 23 years of age, I love art… if anyone was to tell me what I love the most well that would be idolising …you… “ He said and blushed a little more. “I suppose you think I’m some kind of stalker or something now.”   
“Not at all.” Francis replied. “When I saw you last night for the first time, I thought your eyes were just the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. You captivated my imagination… and that’s really saying something. You are a work of art already Arthur.”   
“And you Francis… you were born right here in Paris.” Arthur said “You came from nowhere to be one of the youngest and most successful fine artists in the world. You are around 29 now though, although no one seems to know your true age. Your works sell for thousands worldwide and you have dozens of awards for it.” He continued “You have no husband or wife and live alone, but most of the tabloids say that you are….gay…”   
Francis gasped and smiled at the same time, as Arthur told him everything he knew about him. “That’s absolutely right, and yes I am gay. I have admitted that publicly…” He said with a smile and then stopped for a moment, looking very thoughtful.   
“Are….are you alright?”   
“Oh…forgive me again… I get very thoughtful sometimes.” He said as he leaned forward and showed Arthur the finished portrait. “What do you think?”   
Arthur looked at the picture of himself and was struck by its quality. Yes it was accurate but there was something about it that was captivating.   
“Th… that’s not really what I look like…is it…?” He gasped. “I mean… it is what I look like but … you’ve drawn me in a way no one else ever could…”   
“I have drawn your soul Arthur…” Franciis said softly. “This is how … I… see you.” He uttered. “And after what you just did for me today, I think I am starting to feel… “ He stopped himself midway and stroked the younger man’s cheek. “Oh but that’s got to be ridiculous… I…I have only just met you.” He said “Isn’t that crazy?” All the time he looked into Arthur’s eyes, his gaze unmoving.   
“I… don’t think its crazy…Francis…” Whispered Arthur. “I feel the same….” He uttered “But…what is it you think I did for you?”   
“Mon Dieu….” Sighed the artist. “You have shown me that there is truth in the world. I had been surrounded by nothing but lies… you have given me back my faith…in human nature.”   
“You were really cut up about Antonio….” Arthur began. “He really hurt you.”   
Francis nodded but looked thoughtful. “Or…or I hurt myself by believing in something that could never be.” He said. “No one has ever been upset for me before… it was a different experience than I am used to.”   
For a moment Francis just sort of sat there looking at him in a very tender way, but then pulled himself out of it. “Um…forgive me again…” He said. “Come through the life drawing area, and we’ll start with our first study… if that’s alright with you?”   
“Yes… yes that’s fine…” Arthur replied. He wished that they could just sit there talking forever, but of course Francis wanted him to be the life model.   
Francis led him to the front of the building where the light was the best, and pulled down the screen in front of the window. “I’m sure no one can see in this high up , but I think you will value your privacy Arthur.” He said. Now if you will sit here or lay here… no if you lay down on this block of wood… I’ll get some cushions for you.   
As Arthur sat down, Francis fussed around him and began to undo Arthur’s buttons on his shirt, without even thinking about asking him. “Now if we just take off your shirt here…”   
Arthur grabbed hold of his wrist for a second and looked at him like this wasn’t what he was expecting. Francis stopped immediately, and looked at him with such a tender look in his eyes that Arthur let his wrist go.   
“I… I’m sorry, I … “ Francis began.   
“No…its alright… I was just a little startled.” Arthur said, as he gazed into Francis’ beautiful blue eyes. Slowly he began once again to undo the buttons on the younger man’s shirt. Arthur let him do this. He was still quite nervous but this was exciting, and he felt quite vulnerable under Francis’ touch. This was the first time he’d ever posed for a painting and he wanted it to be right.   
“I should have asked you first… I am sorry.” Francis said as he took Arthur’s shirt off. “I assumed you knew that I needed you to be undressed… “   
“Fully undressed?” Arthur asked and caught his breath.   
“Not… if you are uncomfortable with that…” He said as he gazed at Arthur’s bare flesh. He had a lovely body if a little thin, but certainly held himself well.   
Arthur somehow found himself removing his trousers as well and then being very brave, took off his boxers and laid down on the block of wood just as Francis had asked him too. There was a sheet there to cover himself with but he decided he didn’t need it.   
Francis stood back and beheld the young Adonis before him. Arthur thought he might be more embarrassed than he was, but actually to be like this, to be posing for a painting in front of Francis Bonnefoy, was liberating. He felt really good, really confident and happy. For those few hours it was just him and Francis, and he was the focus of the Frenchman’s attentions, him alone. It was certainly a dream come true for him. He would glance over and see Francis passionately, and carefully working on the canvas, and sometimes he would smile at him as he was working.   
Soon Francis stopped working and gestured Arthur to come over and have a look at what he had done so far. Still naked, the young man came over to have a look at it, and as he beheld the painting Francis had worked on, he was overwhelmed. It was certainly one of the most incredible works of art he’d ever seen. Francis couldn’t keep his eyes off Arthur as he stood next to him.   
“Oh Mon Cher.. you didn’t think to put on a robe or…”   
Arthur gave him a look that said it all. He was no longer nervous in front of this man, in fact he was enjoying being free and naked in his presence.   
“You…you really shouldn’t look at me that way you know…” Francis said as he stood up, looking quite delirious.   
“Why is that, Francis?”   
“Because I am very likely to…” He began but couldn’t finish as he pulled the young man close to him and kissed him deeply. Arthurs heart was just pounding so hard. He was fully aware of what he had just done and he wanted this so badly. He kissed him back with equal passion and wrapped his arms around him. He just couldn’t or didn’t want to stop himself.   
“C’est Ridiculous…” Mumbled Francis, through kisses. “I only met you last night and here you are … and I can’t stop kissing you… “ he said. “I.. I think we have an understanding don’t we… Arthur?”   
“Uh huh…” replied Arthur guiding Francis’ hand to him . He whispered in his ear. “I’m still a virgin.”   
Francis gasped as he said this, and somehow it made him want the young man even more. He growled a little and kissed him more, grabbing hold of him where it mattered, his deft artistic fingers, stroking him gently.   
“How does that feel Mon Cher…?” he whispered “Do you like it…?”   
Arthur gave a little uncontrollable thrust as he felt Francis stroke him . “Yes…” He gasped and continued to kiss him. Francis pulled the young man on to his knee and sat with him in the chair, stroking him. Arthur laid down in his arms and allowed him to do it, submissively he looked up at Francis, as he felt a certain fervour overtake him. He gasped deeply, over and over, finding it harder to control himself, to keep from that moment, a little longer, a little longer… just to feel Francis stroke him, to kiss him, was an incredible sensation, and one that the young Arthur had never experienced before.   
“I … I… think I’m going to…” He gasped, shaking and thrusting a little, he could barely control it.   
“That’s what I like to hear…” growled the Frenchman who only stroked him harder. “Come in my hand… that’s it… that’s it…”   
Arthur cried out as his seed spilled in Francis' hand and his body shook, like he was having some kind of a fit.   
Francis kissed him and held him till everything settled down again, and the young man lay in his arms, sweating and covered in his juices, looking up at Francis and gasping for breath.   
"Now its my turn..." Francis whispered.


	4. Le Sud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love on canvas - Our two boys are falling in love -Arthur tries to get Francis to talk about Antonio and how he hurt him. He vows to help him get over the past. Interesting work on canvas... a little smutty but lovely.

Days passed, and Arthur hardly left the studio of the Great Francis Bonnefoy. He was falling in love with him, and the feeling was mutual. Francis was very taken with his young protegee and Arthur was over awed by his teacher. They spent a lot of time touching and kissing and just needing to be with each other. He showed Arthur the apartment beneath the studio floor, where he lived during the times he wasn’t working. It was a beautiful large place with plush furniture and gloriously decorated in Francis’ unique style of lilac and grey.   
One morning they lay in bed, Arthur on Francis, strong chest as he hugged him and stroked his hair softly. French songs were playing on the radio, as Francis liked his music a lot, he said it helped him focus on his work. A particular song came on as they lay there, “Le Sud” by Nino Ferrer. Arthur listened to the music but felt Francis grip on him tighten a little as he kisses his head and sighed a little.   
“Francis…” Arthur asked, suddenly feeling a little worried for him. “Are you alright?”   
Francis nodded. “Oui Mon Cher. This is just a song that brings back memories for me.”   
“Bad memories? “ Arthur asked.   
“Hmm….” Said Francis with a nod. “But I have you now, and I can move on from them. Now this song will always remind me of being here with you.” He said and kissed him again. “I don’t think I have ever fallen in love so easily in my life…” He mumbled.   
Arthur looked at him with submissive eyes, that spoke of a deep love for him. “You…you love me?” He asked. “Did you just say you love me?”   
“I… I… might …” Francis replied, and French kissed him deeply, not giving him a chance to speak, only to kiss.   
“Francis…” sighed Arthur, still overwhelmed by the kiss “talk to me darling… what does this song signify for you?”   
“You… don’t want to know mon amour.” He replied. “I want to concentrate on what we have, not what Antonio did to me.”   
“What did he do?” Arthur asked, genuinely interested in his past. Francis didn’t want to tell him at first but he eventually felt that he could get that out of the way.   
“Antonio… made me believe he loved me. He made me believe we had something special. Promised me a lot, but hardly let me near him, to love him or kiss him. I suppose I always hoped that something would change, and in the meantime, I supported him, and he used me for money. He took thousands from me and I gave it willingly because I thought he loved me.” Francis replied. “When he left he took ten thousand francs…” He said sadly, his voice cracking a little as he spoke. “Called it payment for his posing for me.” He continued. “But I had supported him all these years and gave him everything… and he threw my love back in my face, then went back to Spain. He had been seeing his lover all that time and cheating… and using me.” He said. “I suppose it was my own fault. I should have known better. I … I… suppose I just wanted to be loved…”   
“Ohh…” Arthur said with concern on his face. “That sounds like you went through some heartache with him.”   
“I did.” Francis nodded. “And then you came along and showed me what real love should always have been about. I’ve never known anyone like you in my life….” He said. “So don’t think that I sit here and pine over Antonio when you are in my life now.”   
As the song played in the background, Arthur could detect Francis’ chest heaving a little, and the sadness radiating from him, prevalent in the ay he was holding him and his hands shaking ever so slightly. Francis closed his eyes and held Arthur tight.   
“But you still hurt…” Arthur sighed. “I will help you forget him.” He said as he gently kissed Francis’ soft lips.   
Francis kissed him in return and stroked his hair gently. “Forgotten…” He mumbled. “Let’s make a new memory…” He said and got out of bed, taking Arthur’s hand. “Come with me up to the studio.” He said. “I have an idea, one that you are sure to love.”   
“What is it?” Giggled Arthur as Francis took him up the stairs to the studio, without either of them even getting dressed. Francis put on the music again, the same song they had been listening to, as the idea was to overwrite previous memories he associated with that song. He got a very large prepared canvas out and placed it against the wall, then got some freshly mixed oil paints and started to smear Arthur’s member with the paint. It felt amazing, and Arthur just let him do this, and while he was working the paint into his skin, he grew harder and harder. Francis stood behind him and faced him towards the canvas, kissing his neck and stroking him deep and hard.   
“Oh I see what…you’re planning…” sighed Arthur as he relaxed into Francis’ loving touch. “What do you need me to do my love?”   
“Relax mon amour… and when you feel ready to come… just let it flow… let it decorate my canvas…”   
“Mmmm….” Arthur groaned as he grew firmer and harder at Francis’ constant pumping of him, and he could feel Francis growing harder behind him, his large member rubbing gently at his entrance, causing him to want it so badly.   
“Uuhhh…. Francis…” He gasped as his body approached that state of ecstacy.   
“That’s it mon amour, feel it overtake you…”   
“F…rancis..” Whimpered Arthur as his body started shaking. He then just let it flow, he came beautifully, spraying like a fountain all over the canvas, and it mixed with the oil paint, creating a beautiful rainbow of cum, all over it. “  
“That’s it… that’s mon Cher… my sweet love…” sighed Francis, holding him close till every last bit of it had expelled itself, and his lover stood there trembling in his arms and being supported by him.   
“Look at that… look what you made.” Growled Francis softly in his ear. “I will add to it and call it “Love on Canvas.” He said. “Now… do the same for me mon amour.”   
When he had recovered, Arthur took some paints and covered Francis, the same way he’d done for him. Then kneeling beside him, he began to stroke his beloved and made him hard instantly. Francis pulled him up and kissed him deeply. “Keep stroking me….” He mumbled and continued to kiss him with such fervour and passion. Arthur watched as Francis’ body became rigid and he thrusted a little before clinging to him and burying his head in Arthur’s shoulder. “Keep…going…” he gasped “I’m going to…”   
Arthur felt like he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life as Francis clung to him and exploded in passion, also spraying his seed on to the waiting canvas, their juices mingling with the paint and drying together. It made blobs on the canvas, and no one would ever know what they really were. Arthur gulped and kissed Francis tenderly, that kiss reciprocated with passion.   
“Now.. “ gasped Francis. “You wait and see what I do to that later… “ He gasped. “Thank you mon amour…” He uttered. “And now I think we both need the shower non?”   
“Yes.” Arthur replied and kissed him. “Are you feeling better?”   
“Thanks to you…” He replied and took his hand, taking him into the shower. He would always remember his time with Arthur now if that song was ever played again. Arthur too would associate that song with Francis and what they had just created on that canvas.   
After they showered, Franics put a towelling robe on himself and got one for Arthur too. It was a beautiful day outside so they went up on the roof of the building and took the rest of the day off from their artworks, sunbathing semi nude on the roof garden.   
“Francis…” Arthur said as they lay on a couple of sunbeds and held hands. “I know I keep getting you to talk about Antonio.” He said “But… I’m… not a substitute for him am I?”   
Francis looked so disappointed and at the same time so sad. “Of course you are not a substitute for him…” He said. “Look…earlier when I said I was falling in love with you…” He continued “I meant it… I … I am in love with you. More than I ever was with him.” He said. “I wouldn’t lie about something so beautiful as love.”   
Arthur sat up and leaned over, kissing his lover deeply. “I’m sorry I had to ask that.” He mumbled. “Forgive me Francis. I just feel very much in love with you and I hope it is real. I really hope that it is real.”   
Francis looked deep into Arthur’s eyes . “I love you Arthur.” He whispered softly. “I want you to move in here properly, there’s no sense in you staying somewhere else when I need you with me all the time.” He said. “And… there will be no mention of Antonio… so if there is anything you need to know… now is the time to ask.”   
“I just wonder what else he did to you to hurt you so deeply.” He said gazing back into Francis’ eyes. “Will that hurt ever disappear?”   
Francis was quiet for a moment and thoughtful before he finally spoke. “We did things together, went for walks, and held hands and…he posed for me. He really made me believe he loved me. Then when I tried to love him, he would push me away, make excuses, and say that he loved me but he was depressed or ill or something and could I wait? I waited, believing he would feel better soon. I thought I could help him, because he always seemed so… down and distant. I wanted to be there for him… but he kept pushing me away. Then I found out about his lover Romano. He would go off on his own sometimes, or text him or… other things and I wouldn’t’ see him for weeks… I tried not to be jealous but eventually I followed him. I found out that all the money I was giving him was going into an account he shared with Romano. That morning when you arrived here, we argued horribly. I realised that I had been used and yet part of me still wanted… him.” He said and gulped hard. His eyes became red as he spoke and his words emotionally charged. “Then he demanded money, and I gave it to him.”   
“Why?” Asked Arthur.   
“I felt defeated.” He replied. “…drained of all energy… “ he said “So I just gave him the money. He said he was leaving and he didn’t want to see me again.”   
“Oh Francis… I had no idea this had happened to you.” Arthur said gently. “But.. you feel happy to move on with me now?”   
“It’s all I want.” He replied.   
“I… I should go… “ Arthur said. “You clearly still love Antonio…” he uttered and made to move but Francis grabbed his wrist and held him there.   
“I promise you I will not speak of him again…” Francis said in a husky voice as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I love you, please don’t leave.”   
Arthur’s heart was in his mouth. He’d never known any soul as passionate and wonderful as Francis Bonnefoy. He leaned forward and kissed him deeply, wiping away that tear with the back of his hand. “I love you too…” He said meaningfully. “I will help you get over what he did… I promise.”


	5. What Gilbert Said...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert Bielschmidt is Francis' agent. He walks in on them about to make love and announces loudly what a pervert Francis is, causing Arthur some terrible embarrassment and upsetting him. They later bond over a skinny dipping session at a local beauty spot.

More days flew by and Arthur moved in with Francis at this studios in Montmartre Paris. This was on a semi-permanent basis because Arthur was still hoping to go to University at some point, but resolved to cross that bridge when he came to it. He couldn’t turn Francis Bonnefoy down, he absolutely loved him. Francis picked him up from the hotel he was staying at and helped him up to the apartment with his bags.   
“I have a new wardrobe for your things. You will of course be sharing the main bedroom with me… “ Francis said as he put the bags on the bed. He took Arthur in his arms and kissed him. “You will of course have your own space as well, but hopefully you are not going to need it.”   
Arthur’s heart beat ten to the dozen as it always did when Francis kissed him, and he couldn’t help it when his body responded in a sensual way.   
“Oh… look at you… Ahhh” Francis sighed. “I may have to relieve you of some tension mon amour.”   
Arthur blushed a little. He was so turned on by Francis’ expert touch and his kisses, his deep electric kisses that thrilled him so. Francis crooked a finger at him and stepped backwards. “Follow me Mon Cher…” He uttered. Obediently Arthur followed him to the studio, where Francis got everything ready for another life drawing. He put on some music, “Forever Young” by Alphaville. He then took his young protegee and sensually undid the buttons on his shirt as Arthur shook with anticipation. Francis had a way of doing this that just turned him to jelly. All the time, he kept kissing him, over and over and nibbling his neck. Slowly he took of the younger mans shirt and let it drop to the floor, before gently tugging at his trousers and undoing the button.   
“Oh mon amour you are so readily aroused…” growled Francis as he slipped his hands down the backside of Arthurs pants and pushed his trousers to the ground letting Arthur step out of them. Then he did the same with his boxers, letting them fall to the ground. “I am going to draw you of course… but first…” He uttered as he laid his young apprentice down on the wooden block “first I want to make love to you… my beautiful Arthur….” He hissed, as he kissed his way down Arthurs sensual body.   
Just then they were interrupted by someone unexpected.   
“Francis!” Came a voice from the doorway. “There you are!”   
A man stood in the doorway, wearing a blue suit, and a cross and chain around his neck. He had albino looks and spoke with a German accent.   
“What the hell???” Arthur screamed.   
Francis groaned. “It’s Gilbert Beilschmidt, my agent.”   
“Who? What? He’s your agent?” Gasped Arthur, mortified about how they had been discovered but his clothes were on the floor and there was no sheet to cover himself with. Francis didn’t show any signs of letting him move either.   
“What do you want Gilbert?” Francis groaned. “Can you not see I am busy right now?”   
“OH yes… it looks like you are about to devour this innocent young boy.”   
Arthur struggled to hide himself from this unexpected intruder. His face was crimson with embarrassment, but Francis didn’t want to let him go. Eventually however he got the sheet from behind the wooden block and handed it to Arthur. “Just a moment mon amour… I shall get rid of him non?”   
“I must say he is a fine specimen.” Laughed Gilbert.   
“What do you want?” Asked Francis as he helped Arthur cover up.   
“I came to discuss an exhibition at Madame Pompidou… they want your work.” He said. “I got a call from them this morning. I told them you were working on some things… and I can see you are…” Gilbert said. “They are going to allocate you some space in September this year. Can you make it?”   
“You could have rang me Gilbert, you didn’t have to come round. Now look what you’ve done!” He yelled as Arthur started sobbing into his hands with embarrassment.   
“What do I tell the guys from Madame Pompidou?” Gilbert laughed. “Do I say yes or no?”   
“Get out!” Yelled Francis. “Go!” He exclaimed, getting up and showing Gilbert to the door.   
“But Madame Pompidou…”  
“Alright… tell them yes… now will you please leave Gilbert?!”  
Gilbert kept trying to look behind him at the young man sitting there covered only in a sheet and crying. “I must say Bonnefoy, that one is hot… not like your other brats, is he?”   
“That’s enough Gil! Get the hell out!” He yelled and by this time he wasn’t playing anymore, he was downright angry with him for saying that. “Next time phone me before you come around.”   
With that he physically threw Gilbert out and made sure he got in the lift. “You idiot Beilschmidt!” Growled Francis as he closed the lift door on him. The Prussian gentleman laughed as the lift went down and yelled back to him. “You are pervert Bonnefoy… that young buck be better getting away from you… he doesn’t know what you are!”   
“Oh Jesus Fucking Christ…” Groaned Francis. He knew it was just Gilbert having a joke but Arthur didn’t know that. He slowly opened the door and looked in to find Arthur wrapped up in the sheet, crying absolute buckets of tears. Gently he sat next to him and put his arms around him.   
“Don’t listen to him… he’s just messing around.” Francis said hugging him. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about…”   
“Am I… just… just…??” Arthur began, hardly able to get the words out and stammering so much. “Am I just one in…a long line of…b..boys you have for your pleasure?” He cried. “You said you loved me…”   
“Oh Arthur…” Francis sighed as he held him. “Of course I love you, that is just Gilberts twisted sense of humour.” He said “There is no one else.. since you came into my life I have not even looked at another boy…”   
Arthur couldn’t stop crying, in fact he was choking and sobbing heartily in Francis’ arms.   
“Hush… its alright mon Amour… I swear I love you… I love you a lot.” He said, finding it hard not to cry himself. “You’ve got to not listen to Gil… he’s an idiot… he’s just an idiot…”   
“He said you were a pervert…” Arthur wept.   
“Don’t believe him…” replied Francis. “He’s Evil… I’m going to ring him and dismiss him as my agent…”   
“But… but your exhibition…” cried Arthur “what about that?”   
“I don’t care about that…” He replied. “I care about you. He had no right to come barging in here like that an upset you…”   
“You… you aren’t what he said… I know it.” Arthur replied and snuffled. “You are the most w…wonderful man in the world… to me…”   
“I wouldn’t ever hurt you Arthur.” Francis replied and whined a little, now in tears himself. “I’m not like that… I’m really not…”   
Arthur hugged him even tighter. “Oh I’m sorry Francis… I’m so sorry… “ he uttered. “I didn’t mean to think that… it was just that he came in here and I was so embarrassed… “  
“It’s alright Mon Cher.” Francis replied. “I should have locked the door.” He sniffed “I’m going to sack him as my agent… he had no right to just come in here and say those things.”   
“No… no, don’t do that.” Arthur replied. “He is an idiot but you… you need that exhibition at Madame Pompidou… and I don’t believe what he was saying about you… You’re not a pervert Francis… I’m sorry I even considered that...”   
Francis looked really distressed as he held Arthur in his arms. “Its not your fault…” he uttered. “He shouldn’t have said those things.” He mumbled. “Promise me you won’t listen to anything anyone says about me… promise… “   
Arthur looked up at the sparkling tears in Francis’ gentle blue eyes and he softly kissed him. “I promise…” he said tenderly.   
“I just want to be loved…” Francis whispered. “I want you to love me…”   
“I do.” Arthur replied, now feeling much calmer than before, although sobbing a little. “Do… do you have problems with people who say things about you?” Arthur asked as he wiped Francis’ tears from his eyes.   
“I’ve been called everything from a rapist to a child molester.” Francis replied “My so called friends think its funny but… it isn’t funny.” He uttered. “I’ve never hurt anyone in my life… but everyone has the wrong idea… simply because I am passionate… and gay. I promise you I will never hurt you Arthur… “ He sniffed. “Promise me you’ll stay.”   
Arthur nodded and hugged him tight. “I don’t suppose you are in the mood for drawing right now are you?” He asked.   
“Not so much.” Francis replied. “Gilbert upset you… that upset me…”  
Arthur sat up and kissed him again. “Tell you what, lets get away from it all just for a few hours.” He said “Lets go out, just out into the countryside. It’s a beautiful day, and … I think we deserve it.”   
A slow smile spread across Francis’ face and he nodded gently. “You always know what to do in a situation.” He replied. “Very well… lets go out… “   
A few minutes later they were in Francis’ car again and driving out into the middle of nowhere just to get away from everything. Francis put the music on in the car and rolled the top down so they could get fresh air. It was a lovely warm afternoon.   
“This song is appropriate.” Arthur said as they drove along. It was “They don’t know about us” by Tracy Ullman. “Other people got the wrong idea about you…but I know who you really are inside.” He said as he sang along to some of the lyrics.  
“And I don’t listen to the guys who say that you are bad for me and I should turn you away…”  
Francis turned to him and smiled the most beautiful smile. This was the first time in his life that someone actually believed in him and didn’t think all kinds of bad things about him. It was lovely, and refreshing and made him love Arthur all the more.   
“You are the only person in the world who understands me…” Francis said. “Are you feeling better yet Mon Cher?”   
“Yes… yes much better… just being with you.”   
“I am going to take you to a very secluded place, so we can be alone.” Francis said as he drove along. Eventually they came to a place that seemed miles from anywhere. There was a small pond and some overhanging trees and miles of empty fields and not a soul in sight. “Here we are… isn’t this lovely?”   
“It’s gorgeous.” He replied as Francis got out the car and opened the door for them. “It’s a perfect day for a swim… and I’ve got some food… and its going to be a warm night so I thought… why don’t we stay out here for a while and maybe have a picnic and enjoy ourselves?”  
Arthur took Francis’ hand and he helped him out of the car, leading him to the little pond. “And there’s no one here for miles around?” He asked. “We are truly alone aren’t we?”   
“Yes… truly alone.” Francis said softly. “Would you like a swim?”   
Enthusiastically they both undressed and dived into the cool water, swimming together nude. Francis watched Arthur enjoy himself and was glad that they had left Paris, even just for the day. Gilbert was so rude the way he just barged in like that, and he was determined to make sure nothing like that would ever happen again. He stood in front of his beautiful boyfriend in the water and just kissed him deeply. Arthur responded and kissed him back.   
“Lets make love right here…” whispered Francis sensually.. “right here in the water… “  
“I would like that…” Arthur replied as Francis made for him to turn around. The Frenchman kissed his neck and fondled him tenderly, arousing him almost immediately. The young man leaned into his lover and felt his arousal at his behind, then he gave a thrust and entered him.   
“Aaah…” gasped Arthur at his thrusting. It was painful and wonderful at the same time. There in that cool pond Francis was stroking him and making love to him, in the most beautiful sensual way.   
“Oh Francis… I … I can’t hold it…”   
“Let it go mon cher….” He whispered in his ear “You are beautiful when you come… just let it go…”   
The young man came with such vigor again in the arms of the man he loved more than life itself, and that only made his love thrust even harder into him, grunting with passion till he too came hard inside of him. In pleasure and pain, Arthur went limp in the arms of Francis, and he turned around and hugged him. The Frenchman held him for what felt like an eternity in that pool, never wanting to let go.   
“Je t’aime Arthur…” He whispered “You have no idea how much…” He said softly. “No one has ever had as much faith in me as you do… “   
“I love you too Francis.” Arthur replied. “I could never believe any of the things that vile man said about you.”


	6. Blackmail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems there has been a lot going on in the background that young Arthur didn't know about. Antonio has spread dreadful vile rumours that Francis is a paedophile and then blackmails Gilbert into stealing money. Arthur finds out about the vile rumours when Francis breaks down and tells him, but he trusts him and won't leave him.

Gilbert sat at his desk smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone. In the background “Incense and Peppermints” by “Strawberry alarm clock” was playing on a radio. On the other end of the phone was Antonio, calling from Spain.   
“Yeah? What the fuck do you want?” Gilbert asked taking a long draw on his cigarette.   
“There is no need to be so rude Gilbert…” Came the voice on the other end of the phone. “I want you to get me more money from Francis Bonnefoy. You know what I mean? I heard I could get half his millions… and you’re the guy to help out with that.”   
“Yeah… and what if I don’t? You Spanish Fuck.” Gilbert replied with a chuckle.   
“If you help out you’ll get paid.” Antonio replied. “Me and Romano talked it over, and there’s no way that bastard should get away with what he did. Are you in?”   
Gilbert laughed and smoked a little. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He said “That guy is my best client, so I don’t fucking think so.” He laughed. “So, what are you saying he did anyway?”   
“Rape.” Antonio replied “He raped me.”   
Gilbert burst out laughing on the phone, laughing so hard he nearly fell over. “Don’t be so fucking stupid!” He replied. “No court in the world gonna believe shit like that.” He chuckled and smoked some more.   
“No but a newspaper might. A television channel might. So if you don’t help me Gilbert, I’m going to spread the news like wildfire. I’ll say he raped me and I’ll say you helped and you’re running a paedophile ring… how about that?”   
“You’re not fucking serious, are you?”   
“I want my money. It’s only what I deserve for the work I did for him.” Antonio replied.   
“But this is blackmail you shit. Not only are you blackmailing him but you’re blackmailing me too.” Gilbert said angrily still smoking on his cigarette. “What would you expect me to do anyway?”   
“You have access to his bank account, don’t you?” Antonio asked. “You could get in and cyphen the money off.”   
“That’s ahh… not as easy as it sounds you know…” Gilbert replied “Why the fuck… I mean what … why do you want his money? Aren’t you and whatsisname in a situation…or…?”  
“Do it Gilbert or I will spread the news about you and Francis… even if is not true, people gonna believe it… you will be ruined.” Antonio said. “Romano had this idea and I think it is a good one.”   
“It’s not a good one it’s a shit one.” Gilbert replied. “If you don’t get your money you’ll ruin me and Francis and you’ll still not get your money.”  
“But if I do get my money you get a third of it. Think about it, how many millions does Bonnefoy have? Couldn’t you do with it?”   
“You have a point there…” Gilbert replied. “He pays me a shit fee for the services I provide for him. He wouldn’t be famous without me that’s for sure.”   
“So, you deserve more, and I deserve more ey… think about that Gilbert and think about what would happen if you don’t cooperate.”   
Gilbert thought for precisely two seconds and smoked his cigarette again. “Alright fuck you, I’ll do it. He’s a sap anyway, he probably won’t even notice.”   
“Good.” Antonio replied. “Remember if you screw up I’ll …”   
“I fucking know what you fucking said.” Gilbert replied. “You fucking donkey…”   
“Can you do anything else but swear… seriously…” sighed Antonio. “You know what you have to do right?”   
“Yeah… I’ll tell the accountant I’m taking over his account for now. I’ll sort it… you just sit tight and wait for the money… I’ll take my cut and send you the rest. “   
“So, have you seen him lately?” Antonio asked curiously.   
“Yeah, I caught him about to screw some young guy…” Gilbert replied. “That was fucking hilarious…”   
“Oh… that guy he was hiring as his new model?” Antonio asked with a tone of jealousy in his voice. “Damn… Francis is even more of a dick than I thought he was. He breaks up with me and the next thing he’s got some young boy in his clutches…” 

At the studio, Francis had just finished another study of Arthur naked. He was standing at the wooden block with one leg raised and in a thinking pose like some Greek God, and had the British flag sort of draped over his shoulders, Francis had insisted that look suited him somehow. The song “The Initials BB” by Serge Gainsbourg played in the background because Francis loved his music, it gave him inspiration.   
He brought Arthur a cup of tea and handed it to him.   
“Can I move yet?” He chuckled as he took a sip.   
“No… not yet… you look so incredibly British… you know?” Francis said, admiring him. “I have to take a photograph… oh and…” He uttered, before handing him a bowler hat and a brolly. “If you just pose with these things… just for a moment… I will take a photograph, and you won’t have to sit like that for hours.”   
Arthur chuckled and put on the bowling hat, slipped the umbrella over his arm and posed with the British flag over his shoulders, sipping the cup of tea. “Indeed sir…” He said “I do hope I am coming across as quite the gentleman eh what old chap…”   
“You certainly are mon Cher…” Francis chuckled as he took a few photographs.   
“Wouldn’t you like to take advantage of this young Englishman?” Arthur asked and gave him that look.   
“Oui… I most certainly would..” he said placing the camera down on the table. He approached his young Englishman and tenderly kissed him on the lips, deepening that kiss to something very beautiful and sensual.   
“Oh I say old chap that was most invigorating…” Arthur said in breathless tones, as his Frenchman picked him up bridal style.   
“You are mine British boy…. Mine…” He growled as he took him into the bedroom.   
Arthur and Francis were just so incredibly happy together, and they thought nothing could come between them, for they were in love, and it was deep, or so they both believed. Francis never mentioned Antonio, till one early morning when he got up around 4am, and was a little restless. He left his sleeping lover in bed and went up to the studio and began his painting. Arthur felt him leave the bed and woke up, wondering why Francis had got up so early and if he was alright. He could hear music coming from the studio, a song that was fast becoming “their tune” Le Sud by Nino Ferrer. He lay there for a moment listening to it, but suddenly got the feeling that something was wrong. He quietly tip toed up to the studio where Francis was working on that canvas they had used together, and he was painting vigorously, and at the same time, he was crying, not just gentle sobs but full on tears, and deep heartfelt moaning. Arthur watched him for a moment. He was talking to himself as if trying to console himself.   
“Arthur is the one…” he was muttering “I love him more than life itself… not you… not Antonio…”   
Arthur entered the studio and moved behind Francis who didn’t even know he was there, and he gently put his arms around him hugging his back. Surprised, Francis placed his hands upon Arthurs at his chest and tried to stop crying.   
“What is wrong my love?” Arthur asked gently. “You can tell me. Whatever it is you can tell me.”   
“I’m sorry.” Sniffed Francis as he turned around. “I was thinking about Antonio… and everything he put me through. I didn’t want to wake you… I just wanted to come up here and re write the memories like we did before. So I can forget .” He sobbed. “I promised I’d never talk about him… I just had a nightmare about him.”   
The young Englishman knelt down in front of him and kissed his lips softly. “It’s alright Francis… you should talk about it whenever you feel this way. I won’t judge you… and I won’t think you love him more than me.”   
“It’s because of him everyone thinks I’m a pervert.” He said “The things he said about me to my friends, to everyone… I pass it off as a joke but… he spread some terrible rumours about me. Almost got me arrested.”   
Wide eyed, Arthur looked at him, this was something he’d never expected to hear. How could someone be so cruel?   
“So… now you really believe people think this of you?” Arthur asked concerned. “That’s horrible…”   
“I’ve been called so many vile names… of course there’s no proof because its not true. But its lost me friends and made people suspicious of me.”   
“I don’t believe that of you at all.” Arthur said sincerely. “And you know I am glad you opened up about this because hearing something like that from someone else would be bad.” He said. “What made you think of this now my love?”   
“I don’t know. But I know one thing… you would never do anything like that. You trust me… and you understand me. That’s what love is all about… I love you and I trust you Arthur.”   
“I just wish you had said this before.” Sighed Arthur. “I had no idea you were going through such turmoil. What sort of things was he saying?”   
“He told people I was a paedophile, and that I’d forced myself on him. None of it was true of course. For a short while he was threatening to get the police involved and I couldn’t allow that to happen…”   
“Is that the real reason you paid him money when he left?”  
Francis nodded gently. “I couldn’t say anything before, its… not really something you want anyone to know about. But… now we are in love and together… I feel I can tell you anything. I am right aren’t I Arthur… I can tell you?”   
“Of course…” Arthur replied, with a look of worry and concern. “How could he be so vile?”   
“I’d never violate a child…” cried Francis as he burst into tears. “I just want to be loved.”   
“You are… so loved.” Arthur said and held him close. “Don’t let this break you darling…. I am here for you, I promise.”   
Francis held him and wept into his shoulder. “Je t’aime…” he uttered softly.   
“Shall we go back to bed my love?” whispered Arthur. “Come on… you need to rest.”   
Arthur helped Francis back to their bed and got in beside him. Instinctively Francis put his arms around him and held him close, stroking his hair gently.   
“Arthur?” He whispered.  
“Hm?”  
“Thank you… “ He said softly.


	7. Antonio's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are deeply in love when who should return out of the blue but Antonio...

“Now what I want you to do my love… is to start off by believing in your heart that you can do this.” Franics said as Arthur sat at the canvas. This time it was his turn to paint Francis in the nude, he would be the artist and Francis the model. “When you are painting, make love to the canvas… use your techniques but think of art and painting as more of a spiritual experience, like… our hearts and minds becoming one.”   
Arthurs eyes looked big and full of love for Francis as he spoke passionately about art. “I see…” he replied, taking in every word he said. He practically worshipped the ground his teacher walked on and listened intently. “One question my love…” He said “How will I know I’m doing it right?”   
Francis thought for a moment before answering. “You will know because there is a certain emotion, a feeling that is unmistakable, a passion that is magnifique…” He said as he leaned forward to kiss Arthur on his lips. “I feel it every time I paint or draw you… oh mon Cher…”   
“Can I remove your clothes?” Gulped Arthur as he tentatively undid some of the buttons on Francis’ shirt.   
“Oui.. “ he answered as he let him undress him. “That feeling you have now, use it, paint with it… let it flow… you are the artist and I am your muse… at least for now hmm?”   
“Yes…” Arthur uttered as he took off Francis’ clothes, revealing his finely toned body.   
“How would you like me to pose?” He asked   
“Well…if you could sit by the window and sort of… gaze off into the distance… thoughtfully… raise one leg on the wooden block and leave the other down…” Arthur said instructing him on how he wanted him to pose. Francis was a truly beautiful man, his body was well proportioned and everything was in the right place. Arthur was quite over awed by his beauty, as he had been from the first day he’d ever laid eyes on his picture in an artists magazine.   
“Is this alright?” Francis asked.   
“Perfect…” Arthur replied as he gazed at him in some kind of hero worshipping wonderment.   
“Put on the music… I’m telling you music does a lot for artworks… it helps bring out the passion.”   
“Oh music yes…” Arthur uttered and went to the stereo.   
“Have you a favourite tune or tunes or anything in particular that brings out the emotions in you?” asked Francis. “You want to pick something like that… “  
“Yes… yes I know…” Arthur replied… “I have an idea…” He put a particular song on. “How can I tell you?” By Cat Stevens.   
“When I was a kid and you were my idol, I used to play this and just look at your picture.” He said. “I hope you don’t mind.   
Arthur began painting and Francis posed for the picture with the gentle music playing in the background, but even he was moved by it. Arthur must have listened to this a million times when he thought of him. The lyrics touched Francis’ heart as he sat there listening to it.   
“How can I tell you that I love you, I love you but I can’t think of right words to say…  
I long to tell you that I’m always thinking of you, always thinking of you but my words just blow away…”  
Although English was not Francis’ first language, he could understand it well enough and was very moved by those words and that music. He imagined the young boy in his bedroom looking at his picture and drawing him. It moved his heart immensely. Could it be possible to have found the one he could truly love? This was stronger than anything he’d ever known, and it moved in his heart like nothing he could ever describe.   
“No… I don’t mind…” Sighed Francis. “Now take that feeling and flow with it… put it into your art Mon Cher… Paint and think of me.. how much I love you now…”   
“I never thought I would be here, painting you…ever…” Arthur said softly as he did as he was instructed, letting the brush do the work on its own. Then he felt it, that indescribable something flowing through his entire being. He wasn’t painting it, but something was, something incredible was moving through him. He seemed to go into some kind of trance as he painted. Soon he stepped back from the canvas feeling quite high, as if drunk on the feeling. Francis saw this and immediately ran to him and held him, then kissed him deeply.   
“How long have you loved me Arthur?” He whispered in husky tones.   
“All my life…” He replied. “All my life…”   
Francis turned to look at the painting and it was one of the most moving portraits he had ever seen. There was something different about this one, and he knew exactly what it was. Arthur had painted the feeling, the soul of him.   
“That is really how you see me?” He gasped. “It’s incredible… “   
“I did good? I did it right?” Arthur asked as he blushed so much. “You really like it?”   
“I think it’s the most beautiful work you have ever created…” Francis replied.   
“I want to make you proud of me…” Arthur replied.   
“I am proud of you… more than you will ever know.” Replied the Frenchman as he held him close. He knew if he let go of the boy he might fall over because of that feeling. He was like a delicate flower to him. “Je T’aime… “ He murmured as he kissed his neck and then cupped his cheek, kissing him even more. “Lets go to bed… the painting can wait for now…”   
Later as they lay in each others arms, exhausted after lovemaking, Francis stroked Arthurs hair and gazed into his eyes. “You are a much more talented artist than I ever was…” He said in meaningful tones. “You need to have the confidence to show your work to the world Arthur.” He said “Which is why I’m going to put some of your paintings in my Pompidou exhibition… and I’m going to put your work in my gallery… and get you into a university here in France… I couldn’t bear to think of you getting into an English one and having to watch you walk away from me.”   
Arthur stared into the eyes of his beloved and smiled gratefully. “You would really do this for me?” He asked. “But…but you don’t have to…”   
“I want to.” He said. “You have never asked me for anything… you have always given me your love. I want to show you that I love you, and I love your artwork… so… let me find you a French university so that you don’t have to leave me. Would you stay with me Arthur?”   
Arthur didn’t know what to say, he just nodded and snuggled into Francis’ chest. He was clearly the most wonderful man in the whole world.   
The next morning they got up after 10am which was kind of late for them. Arthur offered to go and get them some croissants for breakfast from the local patisserie.   
“I can get them… you just stay here and… set up the next drawing session.” He said and kissed his lover. “I won’t be long.”   
“Alright Mon Cher…” Francis replied as he reclined on the bed, still naked. “I will be waiting for you when you get back.”   
Arthur left with a smile on his face and the most incredible feeling of love in his heart for this man. He’d never experienced anything like it.   
As he walked along the street he had no idea that someone was watching him, and following him, till he went into the patisserie and waited in the small que there. He saw a face that he recognised, it was Antonio, he was sure of it. What he didn’t want was for Antonio to come up to him and speak to him but that was exactly what he did.   
“Can I speak to you Senor Arthur?” He asked. “In private?”   
“You can say whatever you have to say here…” hissed Arthur with resentment in his voice. How dare he even approach him like this?   
“I promise you this is important.” He replied. “It is about the man you are sleeping with… or do you want me to shout it out so that everyone can hear?”   
Arthur didn’t reply. Antonio continued. “The coffee shop across the road. Meet me there in five minutes. What you have to know is very important.”  
After buying the croissants, Arthur reluctantly made his way over to the coffee shop. Coincidentally as he went in there he could hear “Conquistador” by Procul Harem playing on the radio. Antonio sat in a booth and beckoned him over. “Over here senor Arthur.”   
“What do you want? Make it quick…I’m in no mood to spend any time with you.” Arthur said as he approached him. In truth he wished he could just hit the man but he was too much of a gentleman to do that.  
“Sit down Senor… this is very important… “   
Reluctantly he sat down and looked him dead in the eye. What could this man possibly want with him?   
“Is about Monsieur Bonnefoy… I hear that you are with him.” He said. “Is this true?”   
“What if it is? What business is it of yours?”   
“You don’t know him.” Antonio said in a low voice. “Has he ever said or done anything that made you uncomfortable?”   
Arthur narrowed his eyes at the Spaniard. “No… he never has. What are you getting at?”   
“Alright I tell you…” Antonio said “He is a rapist… and I do not say this lightly.” He said and continued “I was meant to be his life model, and he spent most of the time trying to get me into bed.”   
“Did he…?” Arthur asked with anger seething through him. “What else do you say he did, Antonio?”   
“The man forced himself upon me… took what was not his to take.”   
“You’re saying he raped you?”   
Antonio nodded and seemed to look concerned. “I was told you were with him… and I want to warn to you get away from him. He is unhinged, he’ll hurt you and you will most likely end up in hospital or dead… I’m only saying this because I am concerned about you.”   
“Really?” Arthur replied “You can fuck off.” He growled “I know what you did to him…and if you come anywhere him or me again, I’ll smash you in the face… ANTONIO!” He replied and stormed out of there, angry as hell and wishing he could have just beaten up the guy for saying those things.   
When he got back to the studio, Francis was in the kitchen making some tea for him.   
“Oh there you are Mon Cher, you took longer than I exp…” He began but then he saw the look on Arthur’s face, his clenched fists, his body language, he was angry, he was seething, and so terribly angry.   
“Mon Cher…what…?” He gasped.  
“You’ll never guess who is back.” Arthur replied. “Fucking… “   
“What is it? Arthur… calm down…”   
“I c.. can’t c…calm down…n “ he stammered. “Fucking Antonio…” He continued, hardly able to speak. “Out th…there… already t..trying to make me think you….”   
Francis had never seen Arthur like this, so angry he could hardly speak. He sat him down and hugged him tightly. “Antonio? Are you sure it was him?”   
“He said to meet him in a coffee house, I did … reluctantly… and he said you raped him… he said… “ Arthur said, the tension clear in his demeanor. “I could have smashed him in the face… I hate him.”   
Francis grew fearful as he sat there listening to him. He was a little angry but it upset him a lot to know that Antonio was now trying to work on Arthur, to tell him awful things as well. He had lost so many friends because of his lies, and now he was going to try to take the man he loved most in the world away from him.


	8. Trouble on the way?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody yet knoweth what be behind the blackmail... but there is a mystery...

Francis threw his arms around Arthur and held him as he tried to calm him down. He too was shaking, as he thought about the whole incident. As he stood there holding him, once again music filled the studio, “Les Corons” by Pierre Batchelet. It seemed louder than it should be and seemed to have an effect on Francis, making him hold on to Arthur as if his life depended on it.   
“From now on we go everywhere together.” He uttered “How dare he come up to you and tell you that?”   
Arthur held on to him, both angry and fearful about what Antonio might have in mind. “If he comes anywhere near you I’ll hit him.” He said “I won’t have him continue to hurt you like this Francis… its not fair.”   
“He’s trying to split us up.” Francis replied. “I don’t know why… I … genuinely thought he was gone.”   
“There must be something we can do about this. He’s putting you through hell.” Arthur cried. “If I could I would punch him so hard…”   
“No… no… don’t do that…” Francis gulped and hugged him. “You’re too nice to be dragged into this horrible thing… “ He said “I don’t know what to do about it… I cannot go to the police… I cannot go to anyone…”   
“Don’t you have a…a solicitor or someone?” Arthur asked “Surely there’s someone who can help.”   
“I… I worry that Antonio will do exactly the same thing he did to you… and tell them lies… horrible lies that could destroy me… get me locked up.” Francis uttered quietly, looking quite pale by now.   
“Alright… I … have an idea.” Arthur said looking quite serious. “I am adopted… I don’t know if I told you this before… I don’t know who my real parents are…”   
“No… no you didn’t tell me that… “ Francis said with concern.   
“… well the point is my adoptive father is a solicitor.” Arthur continued “When I came here… and since he found out we are together, he doesn’t want to see me again… and believe me I don’t want to see him again either. I am no longer welcome in his home. ” Arthur continued. “I had always wanted to be an artist, but he wanted me to learn the law… he taught me himself from a very young age, and by the time I was 20 I had a law degree. Its very basic but… if I wanted to I could be a very basic solicitor.” He said “My father … adoptive father… hates the fact that I am an artist.. he hates the fact that I am gay… and he lives in the bloody stone age.”   
“Uhh… that’s so terrible for you Mon Cher… I had no idea.” Francis replied. “He… doesn’t want to have you back in his house because you are with me?” He sighed, looking so very sad.   
“No… but… but the point is, I might be able to help you somehow because… well because I know the law…”   
Francis couldn’t believe it, not only was Arthur there, supporting him and loving him in a way he’d never experienced before, but here he was offering to help him. “Do… do you really think you can help me?” He asked.   
“I’m sure of it.” Arthur replied. “If you want me to…”   
“I didn’t know you were adopted.” Francis said as he stroked Arthur’s cheek softly. “Want to know something strange?” He asked and paused. “I’m adopted too. I never knew my real parents either.”   
“You didn’t?” Arthur asked, now very interested in this, as they truly had something in common.   
“No… no… they say I was found… alone… wandering the streets of Paris when I was very small… “  
“I was found when I was small too, in London…by the Thames… so they say.” Arthur replied, now all the anger from earlier, disappearing from his demeanour. “Looks like we have more in common than we thought.”   
“Tell me about your … adoptive father…” Francis asked. “Was he good to you?”   
“Other than shoving the law down my throat… I suppose he was.” Arthur replied. “He’s all stiff upper lip, hates anyone from Europe and is all prim and proper. Nothing like me at all.” He said as he told him about his adoptive father. “If you need it I will help you in any way I can Francis. I promise…” Arthur said and hugged him. He looked so vulnerable and sad, and worried at that point.   
“Hopefully it won’t get to that point… hopefully Antonio will leave … but… if he doesn’t… Arthur… I accept your offer of help.”  
“Good. I will research French law and see what can be done about him.” Arthur replied as he held Francis’ hand. “I am one person in this world who will never let you down. I won’t see you hurt and dragged down by this Spaniard… I won’t!” He uttered with pain in his voice. “I can’t believe he wants to take you down… have you any idea why?”   
Francis shook his head and looked down, looking very worried and fearful causing Arthur to hold him and stroke his hair gently. “There must be a reason behind it… and I refuse to believe anything he says about you.”   
“What did I do to make someone as wonderful as you come into my life?” Francis mumbled as he buried his head in the young man’s shoulder. “You’re only 23 but you’re already more mature and responsible than anyone I’ve ever known.” He said, and Arthur could feel the Frenchman’s body trembling in his arms. “You’re the only person I really trust…”   
“I won’t let you down Francis. I swear.” He replied, as the music seemed to fill his heart with love once more for the man he now held in his arms. The man he’d loved from afar all of his life, who he thought he would never even get a chance to meet.   
“Can you think of any reason why Antonio would do this to you?” Arthur asked seriously. “If we find out what’s motivating him we might be able to do something about it.”   
“I… I can’t think why. I treated him very well you know… Arthur… I gave him money, a roof over his head, I loved him… and I didn’t rape him… I swear.”   
“I know.” Arthur replied and made a point of looking into his eyes when he said it. “I know you didn’t, you wouldn’t. Maybe he wants money.”   
“But I gave him money…” Francis replied sounding very upset, his voice emotionally charged. “It can’t be for that reason. I just don’t know.”   
“Shh.. its alright Francis… I maybe shouldn’t have told you about that. I was just so angry with him for saying that … “   
Antonio got into a black car that was waiting for him on a side street, and Romano was driving. His latin lover was from the South of Italy, and a rogue if ever there was one. He looked angry as Antonio got into the car.   
“Well?” he asked expectantly. “Did you get rid of that bastard?”   
“He’s not buying it.” Antonio replied. “I don’t see how we’re going to get to Francis if he’s around. He looks like the sort of guy that would put up a fight.”   
“Where the fuck he come from anyway? I thought you say Francis was a sad single guy…” Romano grumbled. “Now suddenly he has a lover?”   
“He didn’t have a lover when I left him. He came on the scene the very day I walked out.” Antonio replied sounding really annoyed. “I thought he would see what a pervert the guy was and leave… obviously they are as bad as each other.”   
“You better get rid of that guy.” Romano said as he lit a cigarette. “I don’t like him.”   
“How should I get rid of him?”   
“Figure it out ey…” He replied. “Can’t have that bastard fucking up our plans.”   
“I just wish there was another way to get the money.” Antonio sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to see him again or talk to him… or break up his new relationship.”   
“it’s the only way.” Romano replied. “Medical treatment is expensive…”  
“I know …” He sighed. “And I know its his fault…”   
“So he deserves it.” Romano replied as he started the engine. “Bleed the bastard dry.”


	9. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Antonio has explicit sexual love letters that Francis sent him that he MIGHT use against him. Luckily he has the correspondence to those letters to prove it was not all down to him. Arthur with some training in law is researching French law in case Antonio tries to get Francis locked up.

French law as it turned out was quite similar to British law which Arthur knew a lot about as his adoptive father was a solicitor in England. However he did spend an inordinate amount of time now having to put a case together. He wasn’t a barrister or anything like that so he had to make sure he had as much information as possible to send to the court. He sat at a table in the apartment they shared beneath the art studio, working hard on some details.   
“Francis?” He asked as the Frenchman entered the room with some letters and things.   
“Hm?” He asked looking up, and in that moment he looked quite lovely, and innocent or so Arthur thought.   
“Come here… “ he said with his arms outstretched. Francis smiled and went over to him, hugging him.   
“You have been working so hard Mon Cher…” Francis said as he kissed his head. “You really don’t have to do this….”   
“For you I do.” He replied. “Sexual assault and rape are serious allegations… and child molesting. Where the hell does he get these ideas about you?”   
“I don’t know.” Sighed Francis. “What have you been working on?”   
“Just the process of suing Antonio for… libel and harassment.” He replied. “And obtaining money by means of blackmail… because that’s what he did to you.” Arthur continued. “Did he have anything that might have incriminated you?”   
“Like…what?”   
“Oh… photographs or… something that could be interpreted in many different ways?”   
Francis thought for a moment and then looked quite pale as he sat down suddenly thinking about that for a moment. “Oh…” He uttered in realisation. “The letters…” Francis said as he began to hyperventilate. “But they were… innocent… “   
“Letters?” Asked Arthur “What was in written in them?”  
“Um… when Antonio would go to Spain… I would write to him. Love letters… and sometimes he asked me to tell him what… I would like to do to him…. “  
“Oh Francis…” Sighed Arthur “Were they sexual in nature?”   
Francis looked up at him, really pale by now and shaking. “He’s going to get me locked up isn’t he? He’ll use those letters against me…” He choked “You’ll leave me…”   
“I won’t leave you…” Arthur said firmly, grabbing hold of his wrists to calm him. “Listen to me I won’t leave you… “  
“You’ll think the same as the rest of them… you’ll hate me for everything…” Francis cried, hyperventilating and panicking. “I can’t go to prison Arthur… I just can’t… It would kill me!”   
“Francis…” Gasped Arthur. “What is it? Are… are you claustrophobic?”   
“I.. I…” began Francis “…can’t stand being in small enclosed spaces… “ He gasped trying to breathe.   
“I will do everything in my power to make sure you don’t get locked up. Just relax… take a few deep breaths…” Arthur said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you were a victim of circumstance…” Arthur continued reassuringly. “Is Antonio the type to use those letters against you?”   
Francis couldn’t speak and just nodded, still trying to get a breath, and panicking. Instinctively Arthur held him and tried to soothe him. “Come on … just relax… just relax my love…”   
Francis slowly relaxed into Arthur’s embrace and finally was able to breathe. He took a few deep breaths and tried to think clearly, although that wasn’t easy for him.   
Arthur made sure he was comfortable and brought him a glass of water. “There you go, you just drink this and try to stay calm darling.” He said gently. “I’m sorry but we’re going to have to talk about the letters”   
“Alright…” Francis mumbled and drank the water. “I thought he loved me you see… I wrote him nearly every day. He wrote back to me, asking me to be detailed. What would I like to do to him… and… “   
“Wait… what did you say?” Arthur asked. “Did you say he wrote back to you?”   
“Yes… asking me to be explicit and detailed….” Franics said, by now feeling very ashamed and upset that he’d fallen for such a cheap trick.   
“Francis … look at me….” Arthur said sounding hopeful. “What did you do with the letters he sent you?”  
“I kept them… maybe I should have thrown them away…” He sighed.   
“No… no where are they? Don’t you understand? If he uses them against you then we’ll have proof that he asked you to write that to him…. Do you see?”   
The colour slowly returned to Francis’ face and he seemed a lot calmer when he thought about that. It was so obvious, he would be able to counteract any accusations. “Mon Dieu!” He exclaimed. “They are in a drawer in the studio… I completely forgot they were there!”   
“Go and get them… and we’ll keep them in a safe place ok?” Arthur replied. “They are evidence that he wanted you to be sexual with him.”   
He led Arthur up to the studio and to the place where he’d kept Antonio’s letters, in a cabinet with other papers and things.   
“Can I read them?” Arthur asked. “I promise I won’t judge you on what’s written there… after all you thought you were in love…”   
Francis turned away and looked down, and a little embarrassed himself. “If you feel you have to.. “ He muttered.   
“It’s alright… honestly..” Arthur replied and began to read, not out loud but to himself.  
Dear Francis   
I miss you a lot and will be coming back soon. I am sorry for being so distant, but I have been very ill lately, and haven’t been talking to anyone. I need time, just a little more time, but it warms my heart knowing you will wait for me, and I know I am miserable and putting you through so much. But I want you to write to me every day, and be sexy my love. What would you wish for us? What would you like us to do … sexually? Don’t hold back… pour your heart out…   
I love you  
Antonio.  
As Arthur read it he wanted to be sick, or punch Antonio in the face for lying to Francis like that. But he could see that the Spaniard was very persuasive, and it was no wonder that Francis believed what he was saying. He was a soft hearted soul and Antonio was very beautiful for a boy. Arthur couldn’t help but feel jealousy arise in his heart.   
“Uhh… I could punch him so hard…” He hissed through his teeth. “Anyway… this is what’s going to stop him in his tracks should he try anything.” Arthur said as he turned to Francis, who looked like he could just drop through the floor. He didn’t say anything, he just stood there looking really sad, and all Arthur’s feelings for him swelled in his heart.   
“Don’t worry…” He whispered “It will be alright.”   
“Then why do I feel so horrible?” Francis replied. “I hate myself.”   
“No… no Francis you didn’t do anything wrong… alright?” Arthur whispered to him. “Antonio led you into a false sense of security.” He continued “That boy damn near ruined your life and I’m not going to let him get away with it. Nobody will ever get away with that.”   
“Maybe I am what he says I am… “ Francis answered feeling bewildered and lost, and starting to blame himself. “Maybe I just don’t know…”   
“You’re not a rapist.” Arthur said holding him tight. He hated seeing Francis, the beautiful sensual artist that he was, all broken like this. “Now… you’re going to paint… you’re going to make modern art with me… and we’re going to get ready for your Pompidou exhibition in a couple of months ok? We’re going to forget about Antonio… unless he tries something, and I hope he doesn’t.”   
Francis felt hope rising in his heart as his lover spoke. He’d been so protective and loving towards him and that was something Francis had never experienced before. It overwhelmed him that someone so young and gentle could ever exist and love him like he did. He wished he’d never met Antonio, and that Arthur had been in his life first.   
“You don’t think I’m some kind of man -whore do you?” Francis asked still feeling a little insecure.   
“No… no I think you’re a gentle artistic soul who’s been exploited by a money grabbing bastard… is what I think.”   
“You see… this is why I love you so much Mon amour…” Francis replied cupping Arthurs face in his hands. “You’re the first and only boy who sees me as a human being… not just a meal ticket… or a pervert… and you don’t laugh at me… or use me…That’s how I know you’re the one…”   
“And you are the one for me… I’ve always known…” Arthur replied, his heart pounding hard in his chest.   
Francis kissed him tenderly and looked into his submissive loving eyes, feeling that love swell for him as it always did. “From the moment I first saw you, I was captivated by you…” He sighed. “You give me hope…”   
“I won’t let you down my love I promise.” Whispered Arthur. It was always hard to speak when Francis held him like that.   
“Je t’aime…” He uttered. “I will have a surprise for you soon… “   
“I… I love surprises…” Arthur gushed. “What kind of surprise…?”   
“You will see. And you are right… we must work on our Pompidou exhibition pieces.”  
Arthur sighed and let Francis hold him. He always felt reassured when he was in his arms like this, and hated to see his love distressed in any way.   
As they lay in bed later that night, Arthur thought about how he might stop Antonio in his tracks and get him to leave Francis alone. He knew he would do anything for him as he lay there listening to Francis gentle breathing, and his arms wrapped around him almost possessively.   
“I won’t let him hurt you.” He whispered tearfully. “I promise.” He uttered, even though Francis was asleep.   
What he didn’t know was that Francis had heard him, and his grip became tighter.


	10. For our dear Sofia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now here is the true reason behind Antonio's absurd behaviour, why he really wants to either bleed Bonnefoy dry or ruin him.

The song "El Lute" by Boney M played in the background as Antonio talked on the phone. He turned down the music so he could hear what was being said.  
“Is there any hope?” Antonio asked quietly. The person on the other end of the phone was a specialist nurse he had hired with Francis’ money.  
“No Senor…” Came the reply. “The doctor says it will not be long now. You should come home.”  
“Is it that serious?” He asked “How long..?”  
“He says it could be a few days… at the most.” She said sounding upset. “You need to come home…”  
“Okay…” Sighed Antonio. “I will be home as soon as I can.”  
He wiped the tears from his eyes as he put the phone down, and stood there staring at it. He and Romano had checked into a cramped B and B whilst they were staying in Paris, and it wasn’t the nicest of places. Romano was cooking some pasta for them and laying the table but when he saw Antonio all upset he stopped.  
“What is it?” He asked.  
“She doesn’t have long Romano. We can’t do this we have to go back… “  
Romano sighed and shook his head. “We have to make Bonnefoy pay for what he has done…” He replied angrily. “She’s going to die…and its all his fault.”  
“I know… and I intend to ruin him… “ Antonio replied in a husky voice. “I just feel bad for starting all this in the first place… “ he said “I’m sure he has absolutely no idea of what he did…” He continued. “I’m starting to think we might have been better off telling him what happened.”  
“You would have got nothing out of him then.” Romano replied. “He would not have acknowledged it…”  
Antonio recalled the events that happened three years ago in Paris when he and Romano had only come to visit and see the sights. The memory was as clear as if it had only just happened.  
They walked along the bank of the Seine, taking a few photographs and enjoying the scenery. Antonio got out his wallet to buy some food at a hot dog stand when suddenly out of the blue a young boy of no more than ten years old, rushed out from nowhere and stole his wallet.  
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” He yelled, and he and Romano gave chase. The kid was a Parisian street rat, and he knew all the short cuts and places to run, and he really ran, through back streets and down alleyways, and a couple of times they thought they’d lost him. They stopped, out of breath in a back street, feeling exhausted.  
“Little bastardo!” Yelled Antonio. “Where the fuck he go?”  
“I don’t know!” Romano replied, out of breath. “Maybe we just got to give up and put it down to bad experience…”  
“There was 200 francs in that wallet.” Replied Antonio. “That was our spending money.”  
As they stood there, the boy ran past them trying to escape in the other direction, so quickly they gave chase. The young lad ran down some alleyways and side streets till he thought he was safe, and then he started to count the money. He walked along to a small bedsit and in the door that was open, completely unaware that Antonio and Romano had seen him go in there.  
“Now we’ve got him.” Uttered Romano.  
“Right.” Replied Antonio. “Let’s get him.”  
When they entered, the kid was surprised and shocked but Antonio was even more shocked at what he saw. There was one bed in there and on the bed lay a very sick woman who had recently given birth to a baby. She was in a bad way, and the baby looked very sick, and very small.  
“What’s going on…?” Antonio asked the kid.  
He could barely speak back to them, he was terrified. “Je suis Desole Monsieur!” He cried. “My mother…”  
Antonio looked at the poor woman lying on the bed. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and looked very ill, so ill that even he knew that she was dying, and it wouldn’t be long.  
“Romano, you need to get a doctor here… get an ambulance!”  
“Jesus….right…I won’t be long!”  
Antonio sat by the bed and tried to wake up the lady but she was not very responsive.  
“What happened to her?” He asked the kid who was just standing there looking upset and weepy.  
“My mother used to work for Monsieur Bonnefoy, but when my little sister was coming he told her she has to leave… “  
“Bonnefoy? The Artist you mean?” Asked Antonio “Him?”  
“Oui Monsieur, he lives nearby… he tells my mother to leave and then mother is very ill…”  
The boy really couldn’t say what happened, but Antonio got the idea that she somehow must have worked for Bonnefoy, and was let go when she became pregnant with the little girl, he even got the idea that Bonnefoy must have been the father of that child, although he did not know for sure, but in his heart he thought that was the case. He believed that he had left this young mother desolate and ill with two children and no support. That was the conclusion he had come to in those moments.  
“Monsieur…” Gasped the lady, in a rare moment of clarity. “Please… help…”  
Tears welled up in Antonio’s eyes as she spoke, for she was very thin and she was crying softly, almost too weak even to do that.  
“Look after them for me… Monsieur…”  
“You’ll be alright…” He uttered. “What’s your name?” He asked, as a tear rolled down his cheek.  
“Adelene…” She whispered “Dupont…”  
“Don’t worry Adelene… an ambulance will be coming soon… we will get you to a hospital…”  
Antonio waited there with her but Romano still hadn’t managed to get an ambulance. He tried to comfort poor Adelene, but it was clearly too late for her. The birth had taken its toll on her already fragile body.  
“Please Monsieur… they will be all alone…”  
“I promise you I will take care of your children, querida senora…” He whispered as he held her cold dainty hand in his.  
“Thank you…” Was the last thing that lady said. He watched as she sighed her last breath, and died right there.  
“Mama?” The little boy mumbled and hugged her. “Mama..”  
Romano returned not long afterwards but it was too late. Adelene had passed away, leaving her two young children without a home, the little girl in particular was very vulnerable. Antonio managed to persuade the authorities that the children would be better off in his and Romano’s custody, and so it ended up that they came back to Spain with him. The little girl who they named Sofia was a very sickly child, and it turned out her mother had contracted rubella whilst she was pregnant, and so the child was diagnosed with autism, and needed 24 hour care. The little boy, who they found out was named Louis, became their adoptive son. Antonio and Romano were labouring under the false apprehension that the little girl was Bonnefoy’s daughter whom he had abandoned to her fate. They had tried to contact him several times but he hadn’t replied, and every time they tried to get to see him he was always busy. It was one morning when they were watching the news on television, that one of the big headlines was that the great Bonnefoy had come out as a gay man, and Romano had the idea.  
“One of us should ruin that bastardo.” He said “And I know exactly how to do it…”  
That was three years ago. Little Sofia was three years old now, and very sick, lying in a private room in a Spanish hospital, her life slowly ebbing away. Louis had become family to them as well, and he looked after his sister a lot. The plan worked, at least for a little while, but Antonio found Francis to be, not quite his type, and he didn’t like him in that way, however the children needed the money, so he kept bleeding the Artist for every penny he could get. He never mentioned the truth behind what he was doing, because the plan wouldn’t have worked if he did. And he really did want him to suffer for what he’d done.  
Antonio stood leaning on the chair and a few tear drops fell on his fingers. Romano put his arms around him and held him. “We did our best for her… remember that…” He uttered softly.  
“I’ll ruin him.. I swear…” Antonio replied as he began to feel angry. “I’ll take him for every penny… for our poor Sofia…”


	11. 99 Luftballoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confronting Gilbert about what he's been up to with the accounts.

Francis stood back to admire his latest masterpiece. He had been working on “Love on Canvas” for a little while and the Pompidou exhibition was fast approaching. He felt that the piece was finally finished and had that familiar sense of accomplishment. Arthur was working on an abstract painting of his own when Francis called him over.  
“Is it done? Is it finished?” He asked, his eyes wide and bright in sheer admiration of what he was seeing.  
“I think so Mon Amour…”  
The images on the canvas were a black and white monochrome painted picture of Arthur’s naked chest from the neck down, and various depictions of poses, filling up every corner, every square inch of that canvas. He’d taken the time to paint around the rainbow they had created with their love, and no one would ever know how they made it.  
“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…” Arthur gushed. “And… this is going to be the principal piece of the exhibition?”  
“Oui Arthur… your beauty shall grace the gallery of Madame Pompidou in such ways as none ever has.” Francis said as he poured a glass of celebratory wine. “Would you like some wine Mon Cher?” he asked, holding up the bottle.  
“Oui Monsieur…” replied Arthur with a little chuckle. “Just let me go and get a glass..” He said, giving Francis a little peck on the cheek. As he was getting a glass from the cabinet something caught his eye. Francis had left his latest bank statement out where everyone could see it, revealing all his financial transactions and things.  
“Francis you really need to be more careful where you leave things… this is your bank statement…” He said and shook his head a little. “Suppose we had a visitor or something?”  
“Oh oui of course Mon Cher…” Francis replied, still admiring his canvas. “I was just so distracted by this … and painting you… “ He said “I am not very good with finances and things. I leave all that to Gilbert and his accountant to sort out…”  
“Well I’ll put this away for y…” Arthur started to say but his attention was drawn to the statement. He went a unnaturally quiet as he read it. Francis finally noticed that he was and frowned a little. “What are you looking at?” He asked  
“You don’t have an investment in a company called Lacrimosa Securities… I know… I didn’t see any of that when I was looking through your papers…”  
Francis looked at him, a little nonplussed and didn’t know what he was talking about. “What investment?”  
“Oh… don’t worry Francis my love, I’ll ring the bank for you and sort this out, it just doesn’t look right… it’s probably nothing. Probably me worrying too much.” He didn’t divulge his true thoughts on this because he had already seen Francis upset and worried about everything and each time it happened, he too wanted to cry. It would be better if they could enjoy that night without this worry. “Give me a few minutes, you drink your wine my sweet…” He said and kissed Francis gently on the lips. “I just need to make sure this is okay.” He continued “Just a clerical error no doubt.”  
Arthur went into the other room where the phone was and closed the door so that Francis’ music wouldn’t be too loud. The dulcit tones of Claude Barzotti flooded the apartment and the song “Madame” played. He watched his love for a moment, as he closed his eyes and sang along to the music, feeling the passion of his imaginations. He couldn’t help but love him for that, for those moments when he didn’t realise he was watching.  
“Bless you…” He murmured before closing the door, and picking up the phone to ring the bank. Eventually after being put on hold for a while he got through to someone who could help.  
“Allo?”  
“Hello, I am ringing on behalf of Monsieur Bonnefoy, he has authorised me to handle a few legal papers for him and he as a query… I wonder if you can help.” Arthur asked as he sat down.  
They talked for a few minutes about the account and he was able to discern that the investment had been set up six weeks before, but they didn’t know who was behind it. The obvious answer was that someone had access to his account, and the only person Arthur could think of was Francis’ agent Gilbert Beilschmidt. It made his heart sink, but there was no way he was going to tell hi this, not yet anyway, not while he was happy and singing along to songs and looking forward to his exhibition.  
“Thank you for your help Madame.” Arthur said as he closed the conversation. “I trust that a trace will be put on the account… to find out where the money is really going?”  
“Oui Monsieur, that will be sorted out right away.”  
Soon he finished the phone call and rejoined Francis in the studio where they shared a couple of glasses of wine.  
“I checked with your bank, it was simply a clerical error…” Arthur lied. Francis had been through enough, and he didn’t want to upset him.  
“Oh good..” Francis replied with a smile. “A toast… to us… to our Pompidou exhibition…” He said as he poured more wine for Arthur.  
“Aye to the Pompidou exhibition and to us…” He said as they both took a drink. However the next thng he knew, Francis had gone down on one knee and took his hand. What was this? A proposal? Arthurs heart could have exploded in his chest as Francis spoke.  
“I want you to know Arthur, that you have made me very happy, I never knew there could be love as pure as this, and I would like to ask you to… to enter into a civil partnership… what I mean is… will you marry me Arthur?”  
In surprise and shock Arthur’s face went almost crimson, and he couldn’t help but cry, after all, he truly loved this man with every beat of his heart. Shakily he put down his wine glass and knelt in front of him, cupped his cheek and kissed him deeply, their eyes closed and their tongues entwined, their bodies embracing.  
“Of course I will…” Arthur gushed as tears wet his cheek. “I love you so much…”  
Francis then put a golden band around Arthurs finger, and handed him another one. “I had these made for us… and would you put a ring on my finger too, Arthur?”  
Gently he slipped the other ring onto Francis’ finger, and it fit perfectly. “Will you marry me too Francis Bonnefoy?”  
“Oui Mon Cher… Oui…” He replied, his bottom lip trembling as little tears filled his eyes. Arthur just kissed him, perhaps to stop those tears from falling, or to show how much he loved him, either way, he knew if he didn’t then Francis would cry, and he didn’t want that.  
“I love you.” He said and kept kissing him, till Francis pulled him close claiming him for his own.  
“You have this way about you…” He mumbled, as he kissed Arthur’s neck “Where I just can’t leave you alone, I must have you…”  
“Then have me…” sighed Arthur, his heart beating ten to the dozen, his breath husky and sighing. “You are all I want in this whole world…”  
The next day Arthur got up early and left Francis asleep in bed, he was very drunk from the night before and it might take some time before he would come round. That was fine because Arthur had something in mind that he had to do that day. He took Francis’ car and drove to Gilbert Beilschmidts office. When he got there, there was someone at a reception desk, a large blonde haired, blue eyed German who looked like he’d be more suited to fighting in some battle than sitting in an office doing administration.  
“Hello…” Arthur said, and nearly took a step back when the huge German lifted his eyes to greet him. “Or… Guten Tag.. whatever you prefer…” He stammered.  
“Guten Tag.” Replied the big German, his steely blue eyes scaring almost the life out of Arthur.  
“Is…is… this the office of G…Gilbert Beilschmidt… the er… Artists Agent?”  
The huge beast of a man took a few moments before answering and that unnerved Arthur a little. “Ja.” He replied. “I am Ludwig Beilschmidt… you will want to see mein Bruder I believe.”  
“Yes…I … I mean… Ja… is he available?”  
“NIEN!” Yelled Ludwig. “HE IS ASLEEP. You must now go.”  
“Could you maybe wake him up?” Asked Arthur nervously, physically beginning to shake with fear.  
“VAKE HIM UP? VAKE HIM UP? ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Ludwig screamed at him. “YOU VANT ME TO GO AND VAKE UP MR AWESOME? FOR VOT REASON?”  
“Well… it’s a matter of um… legal something… I need to see him right away…” Arthur replied as he heard music being turned on in the office.  
It was 99 Luftbaloons by Nena. He was familiar with it, but it proved Gilbert was not asleep. Ludwig just looked at him and hid his face in his gloved hand groaning.  
“I think he is avake… er awake…” Arthur said. “I’ll just go in…” Arthur said as he pushed past him and opened the door to behold a strange sight.  
Gilbert was singing into a hairbrush and dancing around his office in a crazy mad way, whilst Ludwig nearly died of embarrassment “I sink you should just go in zen..” he mumbled and shut the door. Half way through the song Gilbert realised he was being watched, so he turned it off and put the hairbrush in a drawer on his desk.

“What the fuck you want?” He asked as if nothing had happened. “Who let you in? Did mien Bruder just let you valk in here vissout any varningk..?”  
“Never mind.” Arthur said in a serious tone. “I came here today because I know what you’ve been doing.”  
Gilbert looked Arthur up and down and laughed a little. This was a far cry from the naked weeping little weak boy he’d encountered in Francis’ studio only weeks ago but he was still weak. “Vell… I can see vot ze Great Bonnefoy sees in you.. “ He said. “So masterful for one so young… take a seat Herr….”  
“Kirkland.”  
“Herr Kirkland.” Gilbert said “would you like something to drink? Perhaps ze cup of tea?”  
“Nien… I mean no.. no sir…” Arthur replied. “It has come to my attention that you are… stealing from Francis.” He said “I want you to put a stop to it.”  
“Stealing from him? Vot do you mean…” Gilbert replied laughing it off. “I haven’t been stealing from him. What makes you think that?” He continued trying to look innocent. Of course guilt was written all over his face, no matter how awesome he thought he was.  
“Francis might not know a bank statement from a business ledger but I do.” He said. “And I know you are the only other person besides the accountant, that has access to his accounts.” He continued. “Do you want to explain yourself?” he said and paused “Or do I have to sue you to get his money back?”  
“Um… you don’t understand… Herr Kirkland… “ He said and finally started taking it seriously. “Fuck…” he mumbled. “zis is not awesome…” He said “Look... if I don’t do zis… there is this weird Spaniard who’s going to fuck everything up okay… I thought the best thing to do was what he wanted and then I would be spared any embarrassment and would be able to keep on working.. .he could ruin me… and Francis…”  
“I’ve put a stop it.” Arthur replied. “No more money will leave his account… I should have you arrested… but I will need you to testify in court.” Arthur said handing him a legal notice. “Auf Wiedersehn..” He said as he exited the office, leaving the awesome Gilbert looking not so awesome at all.


	12. Exhibition Day (Arrest of Francis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur has unwittingly set a series of events in motion leading the arrest of Francis Bonnefoy.

Arthur arrived back at the studio, carrying a large roll of canvas and was greeted by a very worried Francis, who ran to him straight away when he got in. He was so agitated, and shaking a little although he tried to hide it, of course there was no way that he could, Francis was never good at hiding anything, especially from Arthur.   
“Where were you?” He asked. “I woke up and you were gone… and.. .um…” He uttered, standing in the doorway, trying not to look upset.   
“Don’t worry Francis… Darling… its alright…” Arthur said taking his hand, and leading him back into the studio. “I just went to buy some more canvas.” He replied. “I noticed we were running a bit low. You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.” He said and took him in his arms. Francis could be utterly adorable when he worried about him like that.   
“Oh... okay…” He replied and smiled. “I didn’t realise… thank you…” He said. “I was just worried that Antonio might be around like he was before and… you know what he said the last time. I wanted us to do everything together then he wouldn’t have a chance …”   
“Hush now…” Arthur replied, and held him. “I want you to relax and forget…” He said with a smile. “I think you missed me, didn’t you?”   
“Of course, I missed you. I wake up… I find you gone… I panicked…” He said and tried to relax. “But you are here now… so…that’s alright then.” He breathed a sigh of relief and held Arthur in his arms for a while. “I just hope he doesn’t show up again that’s all.” 

Gilbert picked up the phone and Antonio answered, he was in Spain again, and didn’t want to be disturbed… but this was important.   
“Hello? Who is it?”   
“Is Gilbert…” He replied. “Your fucking stupid plan went tits up.”   
“Excuse me?” Antonio asked “What are you talking about?”   
“Turns out Bonnefoy’s little rug rat is a trained Solicitor… from England… we’re all fucking screwed… I knew zis vouldn’t vork.” He said “He stopped ze money from coming out of Bonnefoy’s bank account and he is planning on suing you… I just thought you should know zis.”   
“Did he?” Growled Antonio. “What are you going to do?”   
“Vot am I gonna do? I’m gonna testify. Unless you can think of a vay out of zis mess?”   
“Okay. Don’t do anything till you hear from me.” Antonio replied and put the phone down, or rather slammed it down angrily.   
“Dummkopf!” Yelled Gilbert at the phone, even though Antonio was gone. After slamming it down he lit up a cigarette and sat there looking really worried and cursing in his native tongue. “Arschleige!” He grumbled. “Flachwishser!” 

Antonio sat by Sofia’s bedside and held her tiny hand. She had maybe hours left to live and now he’d received this bad news from Gilbert. Romano stood by the door watching, and looking very angry, seething in fact.   
“So the money has stopped… and they’re going to find out where its been going aren’t they?” He said as he stood there folding his arms. “We’ll have to do something about that guy… what did I tell you? Didn’t I say we should get rid of him?”   
“How do you suppose we get rid of him Romano?” Antonio said as he looked up. “Don’t we have more important things to be concerned with…like Sofia?”   
“Yes… but I know a friend… who knows a friend…”   
“What are you saying?” Antonio asked, looking confused. “You have a friend who knows a friend…?”   
“To get rid of him… take him out… “ Romano said running a finger across his neck. “Is no more than he deserves.”   
Antonio looked alarmed and shook his head. “NO!” He warned “No more Romano, if it comes to it… I’ll go public with everything and get Francis before he gets us… we’re not going around …taking people out… as you put it.”  
There was a silence as Romano came over and sat at the other side of the bed. Little Sofia didn’t have much time left now, and it was not the time to discuss such things. Her heart monitor beat slower and slower, and then came that dreaded continuous bleep, indicating that her heart had stopped. 

Soon the day of the Pompidou exhibition opening arrived on the 7th of September. Francis and Arthur finished setting up everything with the help of the gallery staff and were very proud of what they had achieved. The opening was to be that night, and already reporters were gathering outside.   
“I think its going to be amazing.” Francis said as he checked the displays one last time. “Love on Canvas” has to be the best exhibition ever.   
Three of Arthur’s paintings had pride of place in the gallery, some modern art works he’d created with perspective and angles, and a beautiful nude of Francis stood out. “I’ve never had any of my works in such a prestigious gallery before…” gushed Arthur. “This is all down to you… I couldn’t be more grateful.”   
“I would do anything for you.” Francis replied. “Thank you for saying yes… that you will marry me…”   
Arthur turned to look at him and found himself lost in the Frenchman’s gentle blue eyes once more. He took his hand, proud of their matching gold rings and kissed him deeply. “I love you Francis Bonnefoy, I have always loved you, I always will.” He said. “We’ll have a beautiful wedding, and we’ll honeymoon somewhere warm and miles away from prying eyes… away from anyone who would ever want to hurt you…”  
“Or you.” He replied. “And we can buy a little house in a quaint little French village?”   
“Of course…” Arthur replied “… and have our own vineyard… an endless supply of wine… and you will create the most beautiful art of your life…”   
“And you will too.” He replied. “ WE will create the most beautiful art of OUR lives…” he said correcting him.   
Arthur was happy but looked just a little sad as they were talking. Francis picked up on this straight away. “What is it Mon Amour? Are you alright?”   
“Oh… of course my love.” Arthur replied. “I just want everything to go well…so that we can be happy together.” He said “It’s weird but being with you is a dream come true.” He continued “I hope our dreams come true for the future as well… but I am afraid…”   
“Mon cher..?” Francis asked concerned “Afraid?”   
Arthur and Francis embraced, and Arthur snuggled into his warm chest. “What are you afraid of Mon amour?” He asked as he gently stroked his lovers hair, kissing his head softly.  
“Losing you.” He replied quietly.   
Francis held him for an eternity as they stood in that gallery, surrounded by their beautiful artworks, ready for one of the biggest exhibition opening nights ever. It must have been some time but eventually they left the gallery, to go back to the studio and get dressed up and ready for the opening. Each had a tuxedo to wear, and had to both look in pristine condition. 

Later that day, Antonio made a decision. He picked up the telephone and started to ring around some of the big newspapers in France. Once he got through to someone important he hesitated, but then thought of what had just happened to that poor little girl, to poor little Sofia. It was payback time.   
“Hello, is this the editor of Le Parisien newspaper?” He asked. “I have an interesting story about the Great artist Bonnefoy, no, no its nothing to do with the exhibition at Madame Pompidou… its something serious, something far more serious….”

Later that evening, Francis and Arthur arrived, dressed up to the nines and ready for the gallery opening. The reporters went crazy when they got out of their limousine, it was like they were rock stars. Flashes from cameras went off everywhere as people took photographs and asked for a few words here and there. A lady reporter stood in front of a tv camera reporting on their arrival.   
“The artist Francis Bonnefoy has arrived, and with him, his young protegee. Many have speculated about these two, as the young artist with him, known as Arthur Kirkland, has some artwork in this exhibition as well. Some have remarked that they are wearing matching gold bands, and that they intend to marry later this year. “ She was saying as the camera gave a close up of their hands and their rings they were both wearing. “So it would seem that the rumours are true…”   
“Oh my…” Gushed Arthur as they walked in. “I had no idea you were this popular… oh … well I did but … there seems to be more people here than usual.”   
“They want to know about you and me.” Francis replied as he put his arm around him. “So lets give them something to talk about hmm?”   
Proud to be with him, Arthur walked into the gallery with the man of his dreams. This was up until now, the most incredible night of their lives. First there was to be a Q and A session and then they would proceed to the gallery. Francis had done this, many times but Arthur hadn’t, and he intended to just stand beside him, but people were curious.   
“Monsieur Bonnefoy!” The same lady reporter asked. “Are you in a committed relationship with your young apprentice? The people wish to know!”  
Francis looked at Arthur and paused before hauling him up on to the podium with him. “I wish to tell all of you that I have asked this fine young man to be my husband and he has accepted.”   
The crowd of reporters and people just went wild, cheering and clapping and when Francis went to kiss Arthur in public, camera flashes went off everywhere.   
“Oh God!” gushed Arthur “I’m so… nervous…”   
“Don’t be… you’re beautiful mon Amour..” Came Francis reassuring reply.   
Moments later they went into the gallery with a few VIPs and reporters and of course Gilbert who had shown up despite the fact that he and Arthur were at odds. He didn’t look comfortable though.  
“Gilbert you made it.” Francis said as he took a glass of wine from the waiter. “I thought you were busy.”   
“Vell I am not…” He said and glanced at Arthur who looked away, or down at the floor, as he didn’t want to look the Prussian in the eyes.  
“I vanted to be here, zis is an important exhibition for you Bonnefoy.” He said. “I also vanted to apologise to your fiancée.” He said. “For ze vay I valked in on him zat first day. Zat vas unforgivable. Now I realise how serious things are between you and I apologise.”   
“That’s alright.” Arthur replied. This was very odd, and unexpected but of course, Francis didn’t know that he’d been to see him about the money going missing. He took Gilbert to one side as people mingled and wanted to talk to Francis.   
“You shut up about me coming to see you the other day…right?” He said to Gilbert. “I’ve been trying to shield him from this, he has no idea what you’ve been doing, and I don’t want you opening your big mouth and spilling the beans. Have you got that?”   
“You mean you haven’t told him?” Gilbert asked. “But why?”  
“I love him.” Arthur hissed. “You have no idea what he’s been through… so you shut the hell up about everything… not a word ok?”   
“As you vish.” Gilbert replied. “I … rang Antonio… and told him its over. He vas not happy.”   
“What do you mean? You rang him? Gilbert are you out of your damn mind?” Arthur practically raged. “He was the last person you should have…”   
“Isn’t this the best night?” Francis said as he approached them. “Arthur our painting of Love on Canvas has so many people interested… and they don’t even know how we created it…” He said with chuckle.   
It was at that moment that six police officers entered the gallery and made a bee line straight for Francis. Without warning they approached him, handcuffs at the ready. The chief investigator was a big burly man, and he took no nonsense from anyone.   
“Francis Bonnefoy…” He said “You are under arrest for running a suspected paedophile ring, rape and sexual assault.” He continued “You have the right to remain silent …” He said as he unceremoniously read him his rights. The entire room went silent as he did so, and for a few minutes nobody really knew what was happening. They arrested Gilbert too and read him his rights also.   
“No!” cried Francis when he finally realised what had happened. “No it’s not true, you can’t…” He uttered.   
“Let him go!” Arthur practically screamed but he was shoved out of the way as they tried to lead Francis through the crowd. “Leave him alone, he hasn’t done anything! Leave him alone!”   
“Any more from you sir and you’ll be joining him!” roared one of the police officers who roughly shoved him out of the way, knocking him down.   
Francis began to panic, he didn’t want to go anywhere with these men, and tried to struggle to get away, and when he saw that someone had knocked Arthur down it made him struggle even more but it was no use. They got him down and sat on him, then clamped the handcuffs on him, far too tightly. Arthur got up and tried to follow but they just pushed him again, far too hard. “I said back or you’ll be arrested as well!” Roared the officer at him, as they dragged poor Francis out of the gallery in front of everyone, the reporters, the crowd, the lot, and bundled him into a waiting police car.


	13. Just Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets Francis out of jail, but confesses that he lied to him. It all ends in sex.. of course.

Two officers dragged Francis from a police car into the jailhouse and into a waiting cell. It was cold and dark and there were no windows. Even though he was trying to tell them he was afraid of enclosed spaces, no one listened to him.  
“Please!” He cried “I can’t go in there, I can’t stand being in such a place!” He cried.   
“Shut up.” Replied the officer gruffly, and shoved him in there without even taking off the cuffs. “You’ll wait till we’re ready, got that?” He growled as he shut the door and locked it. There wasn’t a light as it was broken and Francis was all alone in there. He felt as though he was in hell, like the world was closing in on him, like there was no way out. Why hadn’t they taken these damn cuffs off? They hurt so much they were beginning to chafe at his wrists, and having his arms so uncomfortably positioned behind his back, was awful.   
“I didn’t do anything…” He cried “You’ve got to let me out, it’s a lie! It’s all a lie!” He screamed. No one listened to him as he slowly went insane in there. He stopped and he could hear nothing, only the cold damp silence in the cramped little cell. “…got to get out… I can’t get out…” he whimpered “…can’t get out…” He started to cry in a sort of panic. This was the worst thing that could ever have happened. Arrested and thrown in this cold dark dungeon of a cell.   
Arthur rushed back to the studio and got his briefcase, with all the evidence he had gathered. He couldn’t help thinking some of this was his fault. “I wish I hadn’t gone to Gilbert…” He mumbled to himself as he grabbed his things. After a few hours he got to the jailhouse and they finally let him speak to the officer in charge of Francis’ arrest. At first he wasn’t very accommodating, but after the agreed bail amount of 4,000 francs he agreed then to let Francis out of the cell. He took his time doing it though and this frustrated Arthur a lot, but it had to be done. He hadn’t negotiated anything for Gilbert at this point so he was going to have to stay in, unless his own solicitors could do anything. Anyway Gilbert was not his concern. By the time they let Francis out, he’d been locked up for most of the night, and was in a bad way. He managed to get to his feet but that looked like a struggle. “Arthur…” He mumbled as he burst into tears. Arthur went to embrace him and realised they still hadn’t taken off the cuffs. Appalled by this he made the officer take them off immediately, and he obliged if reluctantly.   
“He’ll be back behind bars before you know it.” He growled. “His kind never stop.”   
“How dare you insinuate such a thing you mindless cretin?” Arthur replied. “He is innocent…”   
“Yeah for sure he is…” he retorted. “Get out of here both of you before something else happens.”   
Not wishing to argue, Arthur wrapped his coat around Francis who was clearly suffering from being stuck in that hole for hours when he was clearly a classic claustrophobic. He then helped him outside and into the car, and drove him home. All the way, Francis didn’t say a word, he just sat there, breathing erratically and looking very sad and lost. Arthur was very worried about him and took great care to help him to the lift and up to the apartment, where he sat him down and brought him some hot chocolate.   
“Francis? Darling?” Arthur asked “It’s alright now… that will never happen again I promise.”   
After a few moments Francis spoke up. “They locked me in…” He said “I couldn’t see anything… I couldn’t.. breathe…” He said as tears whispered down his porcelain cheeks “I didn’t know if I was going to get out of there…”   
Instinctively Arthur put his arms around him and let him cry. It was heartbreaking and this was the last thing he would ever want. “I couldn’t get out…” whined Francis.   
“It’s alright, you’re out now. And I promise you that won’t happen again. Antonio doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they know it. Do you trust me Francis?”   
Francis nodded and sank into Arthurs embrace. “I trust you above all others… you have always believed in me and you have never lied to me.”   
Arthur pushed him back and held him by the shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “My love I fear that I have lied to you, and I feel responsible for what happened to you today.” He said as he tried to be brave and tell him the truth. It wasn’t easy.   
“What do you mean?” Francis asked. “You…?”  
“I knew Gilbert was stealing your money. I didn’t tell you because you were happy to have finished our painting and … and then you asked me to marry you… and…” Arthur said, his voice cracking with emotion. It was really hard to keep it together. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment… you see?” He said. “Then the next day I went to see him… I told him I’d put a stop to his shenanigans… but I didn’t know that the first thing he would do… would be to call Antonio and tell him everything. But that’s what he did.” Arthur continued as a single tear rolled down his cheek, his brow furrowed and his lips trembled. He felt so guilty. “Th…then… Antonio called the papers and the police and everyone… and…”   
“You…you…lied to me?” Francis gasped. He couldn’t believe it. He stared at him in utter shock and disbelief. “Why didn’t you…tell me all this?” He asked “You didn’t tell me what you had done… Arthur!” he cried. “How could you?”   
“Please don’t hate me…” Arthur said, trying not to cry. It was impossible though. “I thought I could sort this out and shield you from the hurt… I was trying to protect you… because I love you. I love you Francis… look at me… I love you…” He said bearing his very soul to him.   
“You lied… how do I know everything else isn’t a lie?” Francis replied, searching his eyes. “How do I know you’re not just like …the others…using me… lying to me…?”  
“Please don’t think this way Francis. Please….”   
“Were you after my money...? Fame? What was it…?”   
“I wasn’t after anything… I love you Francis please believe me…”   
“I can’t…” He said as he stood up. “You have to leave… get out..” He uttered.   
In a panic Arthur knelt at his feet and took his hand. “No, no Francis you don’t understand…” He replied in tears, kissing his fingers. “I am so sorry… I love you so much, please don’t send me away.”   
Devastated, Francis just walked away and towards the stairs. “I … expect you to be gone… by lunchtime at least…” He said quietly. He just couldn’t think straight. How could Arthur lie to him like that? Like all the others? Did he even love him at all?   
With that he went upstairs to the studio and the next thing Arthur heard was some music playing as Francis started to paint. Heartbreakingly, it was “their” song “Le Sud” by Michel Ferrer.   
Arthur was in pieces, heartbroken, hating himself and just couldn’t stop crying. One minute they had it all, they had everything, they were planning a future together, and now he had lost the one man in the world he had ever loved because of a stupid lie. He slowly packed one bag, just a few clothes and things, he didn’t want to take everything, besides that didn’t matter now. On his finger was the gold band that Francis had placed there only a few days before. He stopped what he was doing and wrote a letter to him. Some time later he went up into the studio where Francis was working and left the letter and the ring nearby for him to find.   
“Francis?” He began, but Francis, although he heard him, didn’t turn around. He just kept painting. Arthur was still in tears and couldn’t speak, slowly he turned and left. Francis realised he had gone and turned to see the ring he’d given Arthur, sitting on top of a letter. With shaking fingers he opened it and read…  
“My Beloved Francis   
It breaks my heart to leave you, I really don’t want to. I may have lied to you out of love, and wanting to protect you, but never would I lie to you about how I feel, how you changed my whole life, and how I believe in you. I want to tell you, that you are the most beautiful person I have ever known, and I have loved you all my life. Without you I don’t know how I will go on. Here is your ring to prove I didn’t want your money, though I’m pretty sure this ring is worth a good few thousand. I’m giving it back to you. I would have kept it to remind me of what we had… but I can’t. The memories are too painful. I don’t know where I’ll go or what I’ll do.”  
Yours with true love   
Arthur.”  
Francis picked up the ring and held it in his hand tightly. What in the world was he thinking? He couldn’t send away the one person in the whole world he truly loved, who loved him like this. A sudden realisation hit him and he knew he couldn’t just let Arthur walk away and out of his life. Dropping the letter, he ran out to the lift but it was on its way down. He took the stairs, running as fast as he could. The lift reached the ground floor before he did, but he kept going.  
Arthur waited outside for a taxi he’d called, and it pulled up a few moments after he’d got there. Just as he opened the door to get in, he felt a grip on his arm, pulling him back. It was Francis, he didn’t want him to leave.   
“Don’t go..” he said “Please don’t…”   
The taxi door slammed shut and the driver shook his head and just drove off without him.  
Immediately Arthur just hugged him. Francis wrapped his arms around him right there in the street and held him so tight. “Don’t leave me Arthur…” He wept “Je t’aime..”   
Realising lots of people might be watching, they went back inside and up to their apartment, arm in arm. Once inside Francis closed the door and locked it before turning to Arthur and holding him close again. “I’m so sorry…” He uttered “I love you so much.” He said through tears and kisses. He cupped Arthurs face in his hands and brushed the tears from his eyes.   
“You really want me to stay? Wh…why? I mean… you seemed to set making me leave…” Arthur asked.   
“I read your letter… and remembered what you said… that you were afraid of losing me. “ Francis replied. “Then I remembered that you said you’d loved me all your life… and how you’d cried for me when you realised I was hurt… and that first day I met you, how you stupidly spilt red wine all over me…” He replied and sobbed hard for a moment. “Nobody in this world… has ever… loved me like that… and I realised I love you in exactly the same way Arthur… I feel hurt when you’re hurt, and I loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”  
“But… I lied to you…” Arthur replied “It got you locked up…”   
“No… no it didn’t. That was down to Antonio. You were trying to help me.” Francis replied. “I was just so done in by spending a night in the cell that I didn’t see it… and I am so sorry I put you though that. Can you forgive me?”   
“If you can forgive me.” Arthur replied hopefully. “Please?”   
“Of course Mon Amour…” He replied as he slipped the ring back on Arthur’s finger. “Don’t you ever take this off again okay?”   
“Never in a million years…” Arthur said and kissed him deeply. “I will never lie to you again… ever… I promise.”   
“Oh… Je t’aime Arthur…” sighed Francis as he kept kissing him. “I think we both need to be...forgiven.” He said as he undid the buttons on Arthur’s jacket, and slowly took it off. Garment by garment, Arthur’s clothes ended up in a heap at his feet, as he felt Francis’ glorious fingers undress him once more and his gentle lips caressing his, and on his neck, leaving little bites in his wake. Arthur slid a hand under his shirt and then started to undo the Frenchman’s trousers, allowing them to fall to the floor, before undressing him the rest of the way.   
“I’m sorry Francis… I’m sorry… “ Arthur whispered gently. “I love you…”   
Taking him by the hand and moving backwards, Francis led his young lover to the bedroom and pulled him close before getting him to lie down on their bed. Submissive eyes, gazed into his, and he knew that he’d never known a love like it. He coaxed him to turn around and knelt over him. The young man groaned softly beneath him in anticipation of what would be happening. Francis kissed and bit his neck and began to stroke his erect member, just gently at first, and then with more vigor, being a little rough with him, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. In fact he felt as though he deserved a bit of pain after what he did.   
“More….” He grunted as Francis stroked him harder, rougher than before. Clinging to the bedcovers, Arthur writhed underneath him as the Frenchman continued to stroke him and kiss his neck and make him feel wonderful and guilty all at the same time.   
“I’m going to come…” Cried Arthur.. “I can’t hold back… I can’t…”   
“Just a bit longer Mon Cher…” Growled Francis in his ear. “A bit more…”   
“I…c…can’t…” He cried… “I’m coming!” he screamed and expoded, gasping for air, his body trembling like nothing on Earth.   
“Remember you will always be mine, British boy…” sighed Francis, as he rubbed his juices all over him, in between his legs and his backside, massaging his entrance a little. Suddenly he pushed hard, entering him with such force and might that Arthur screamed hard, he cried out in pain, and somewhat pleasure, feeling Francis’ love once more, inside of him, driving him crazy. Francis was unstoppable, he pushed, the thrusted, he gave him every inch of his love, and more. Arthur could hardly stand it, his eyes rolled up into his head, the pain was unbelieveable, and at the same time wonderful. “Hurt me…” He groaned “I deserve it… hurt me…”   
Francis kept going and responded to Arthurs request by slapping his buttocks hard a few times leaving a red mark. Arthur cried out, quivering in pain and gripping the bed posts. “For the love of God!” He screamed. “You’ll make me come again if you…”   
Francis grinned, moving faster and harder, and spanking him so hard. Then he gripped his lovers shoulder and pushed hard and deep as he came, shaking and crying out his name. At that moment, Arthur’s body also tensed up, and he climaxed with a strange fervour that sent him into a fit of ecstasy, his body shaking uncontrollably. Francis kissed his neck over and over as finally his lover relaxed and fell limp on to the bed, still groaning in pleasure and pain. He fell on top of him, exhausted but happy, continually claiming his mouth, and kissing him over and over.   
“You are incredible…” he groaned as Arthur lay there still trying to recover. “That was beautiful…”   
Arthur couldn’t speak, he just turned to him and buried himself in the Frenchman’s chest, still shaking, still whimpering from the experience.   
They lay there like that for some time, till they had both recovered. One thing was for sure, Arthur knew he would never lie to him again, and Francis knew that their love was stronger than anything either of them had ever known.   
“Thank you for not leaving…” He mumbled. “I would have regretted sending you away… “   
“Thank you for stopping me.” Arthur whispered. “I don’t know how I’d live in this world without you…”   
“You’ll never have to… as long as I don’t have to go back to jail.” Francis said and hugged him tight, his heart beating fast in his chest. “What am I going to do Arthur?”   
“Do you trust me Francis?” Arthur asked as he moved to kiss him.   
“More than you’ll ever know.” He replied.   
“Then don’t worry… don’t you ever worry…” Arthur replied. “Just trust me.”


	14. The Truth and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In court we find out who is responsible for everything. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.

"We've done it your way Antonio." Romano said looking serious. ".. and what happened? Bonnefoy spent a few hours in a jail and got a slap on the wrist. There is no more money. Now we do it my way." He said in husky tones. "What's the matter? You look afraid…"

Antonio was looking out of the window, staring into the distance, looking quite worried. "I think we went too far already." He said. "It was meant as a ruse… I wasn't going to actually do it… but when Sofia died… I don't know… I was upset, angry…" he continued. "Now that guy is gonna sue us for sure. There's only one thing to do. We have to let everyone know exactly what kind of a bastard Bonnefoy really is. Abandoning his sick daughter, not answering any correspondence… forcing us into blackmailing him in order to get anything out of him. "

"That may be so." Romano replied as he loaded a revolver. "But like I said… I know a friend who knows a friend…" He uttered pretending to aim at something.

"No, I told you we are not going down that route!" Antonio said angrily. "You are not going to hire a hitman. Is that clear?"

"You never want to hire a hitman. I could get rid of that guy, in the blink of an eye. Take out Bonnefoy as well and why not?" Romano said angrily.

"Romano, grow the fuck up." Antonio replied "This is serious and you are not the fucking mafia…"

"Who says I'm not?" He replied nonchalantly.

Antonio rolled his eyes in both disgust and annoyance. "We have to be in the French courts in a couple of days, I got the papers this morning."

"You don't have to go, they can't force you…." Romano began.

"I know. But I think... if we get enough people, his ex lovers, we can still try to get him. What do you think?"

"Stupid idea." Romano replied, annoyed that he wasn't allowed to hire a hitman. "If anything, this will come crashing down around us. We should have got rid of that guy like I said…"

"Shut up… stop saying that… I'm starting to think you are serious." Antonio replied in annoyance. "I shouldn't have listened to you in the first place… there should have been a better way."

"But there wasn't…" Romano replied. "Don't you start blaming me for all this, you treated him like a cash cow for three years… you were happy going along with it…"

Francis was nervously fiddling with his tie and couldn't get it right because his nerves were in pieces that day. Arthur shook his head and tied it for him. This was one area where he at least knew what he was doing, and he was confident that everything was going to go his way.

"I just can't believe we have to go to court…" Francis uttered as Arthur fixed his tie. "Do I really have to be there…?"

"That is a redundant question my love." Arthur said as he helped him dress, then got very brave and pulled the Frenchman into a deep kiss, which did help to calm him.

"Hmmm…" Chuckled Francis. You're getting confident.. aren't you? Very different to the first day I met you. So multi- faceted. "The more I get to know you the more I love you."

"The feeling is mutual darling." Arthur replied. "There's a lot more to me than meets the eye." He said with a grin. "Besides, I am in my element, I know the law inside and out and there is no way that we can lose. Antonio is going to have to pay back every penny and more… and then maybe we might find out what's behind this ridiculous action. Why he did it in the first place."

"I've never been to court before…" Francis mumbled. "Everything's going to come out in the open isn't it?"

"Yes…" Arthur replied. "Is there anything you haven't told me? Now would be a good time to say."

Francis bit his lip, looking a bit thoughtful. "Well… I'm a…sorry… I WAS a bit of a flirt before you came along. Not that I ever… did anything… but I worry that won't go well for me."

Arthur sighed trying to block that thought out of his mind whilst he made sure he had all his papers in his briefcase. "All in the past Francis… all in the past." He said "Anything else?"

"Well… I have a few s…sexual partners… and that sort of thing… "

Arthur looked at him and pursed his lips a little. "Okaaay…" he replied, and silently wished he hadn't asked Francis to tell him anything.

"Men and women alike… I mean… I tried to love women too you know… but in my heart I was always gay… I have lost count of how many…"

"Francis… stop." Arthur said, feeling a little ill just thinking about it. "You have a past… I get it. No need to elaborate."

"Right yes…Je suis Desole…" Francis replied looking a bit sheepish. "You did ask…"

"I know… and I'm an idiot." Arthur replied, feeling a little jealous and upset about it. Francis knew exactly what to do and put his arms around him.

"Je t'aime." He mumbled and nibbled his ear. "Je t'aime mon amour…"

Arthur smiled a little as he did this. And Francis continued. "Tue es mon petit cupcake Anglais…" he mumbled kissing his neck. "Vous avais le gout aussi doux que des bonbons…"

"Stop it you'll make me want you…" chuckled Arthur.

"Oui zat is the intention…" mumbled the Frenchman kissing his neck. "ze court can come to us…"

"Non… I mean no… no…" Arthur said. "We have to be in court in an hour… we don't have time…."

"Oh oui we do Mon petit lapin… we do…" Francis continued exuding his French charm. Arthur politely declined although it was obvious he was becoming aroused already.

"How am I supposed to prosecute Antonio when you are doing this to me…?" He chuckled. "Stop now…" He said. "We have to go…" Arthur sighed and bit his lip. He wanted Francis as much, but court was much more imminent. Francis chased him into the lift and kissed him all the way down to the ground floor." Eventually however, he started behaving a bit better, as they got in their car and drove to the court.

Antonio and Romano were there first, and had already presented their charges to the judge against Francis. Arthur was going to counter sue with allegations of Blackmail, embezzlement, harassment and libel amongst other things. Antonio had chosen to defend himself in this case, and with the help of some newspapers had been able to contact a string of Francis' former lovers to try to prove that the Frenchman was guilty of rape, and other non-consensual acts of a sexual nature. He wasn't going to give up without a fight. When Francis and Arthur arrived and they were briefed on the situation, they realised that this might not be as straightforward as it should have been. Had Antonio somehow got other people to testify that Francis was a rapist?

Arthur looked through the list of people who were going to testify. "Dear God Francis…" He mumbled "This is a lot of people…"

"Well you know… I am 29… is not like I lived in a cave… and this is Paris…and…" Francis tried to defend himself somehow. "All this was in the past before I even met you… you know?"

"Yes… alright…" sighed Arthur. "Lets get on with it…" He said and gave a gesture of praying to God.

The Judge arrived and took his position, calling forth Arthur and Antonio to the stand. He was an older gentleman, with very large glasses .

"Before we begin your honour…" Arthur said "I request a meeting in chambers, as new evidence has come to light that may cast a different light on this trial. Five minutes is all I ask, as Senor Carriedo needs to be aware of it."

The Judge pulled a face at first but then agreed to meet them both in chambers for five minutes. Soon Arthur, and Francis, were joined in a back room by Antonio and Romano, and the Judge. As they took their seats at the table the Judge sighed a little.

"What is this new evidence you have Mr Kirkland?" he asked. Antonio looked confused, as did Romano, but they let Arthur present what he had.

"I have here, the death certificate of a Sofia.. Carriedo…" Arthur said producing a piece of paper. "I came across this a few days ago."

"How? How did you get that?" Antonio gasped, looking at the paper as it was passed to the Judge. Francis looked confused as well, he didn't know what Arthur was going on about or planning.

"I accessed the records of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo through the international archives. It was all perfectly legal I assure you. I had good reason, as I was putting a case together against him." He said. "And the other day I found this death certificate. I was able to have a copy sent to me, and it arrived yesterday."

The Judge inspected the paper. "So… what has this got to do with anything?" he asked.

Arthur answered him but looked at Antonio. "I can see that Sofia was three years old." He said "Isn't that the time you started working for Monsieur Bonnefoy?" He asked. "You see… you had a child to support, you thought a way to get money would be somehow to blackmail him. Either way there is something suspicious about it."

Francis sat there open mouthed and in shock. He'd never even heard of a Sofia Carriedo. He blinked a few times in disbelief.

Realising the game was up, Antonio got to his feet and punched the wall. "There is no need for a trial… no need to draw all of this out in court. She's Bonnefoy's daughter." He said. "Her mother died in my arms, after giving birth. She used to work for him… it was obvious what had happened. He got her pregnant then abandoned her, and his little girl. I wrote to him, I phoned him, over and over and I got no response… nothing. So… so we came up with the idea to ruin him." Antonio said. "Romano and I… we wanted to get the money out of him for her medical treatment. She had severe autism and was a sickly child."

Romano rolled his eyes and groaned a little. This is not what he would have done, but there he was confessing everything. He was sure they'd be locked up for what they'd done. He was basically admitting all.

Arthur gasped and put a hand to his mouth. He hadn't expected to hear a thing like that, it was worse than Francis being a rapist or a paedophile, which he knew were not true, but could he really have abandoned a little girl and not responded to any letters or phone calls? Could he really have done that? He looked at Francis, who was completely nonplussed, he had no idea what anyone was talking about. "Please tell me you didn't…" Arthur uttered "Your daughter?"

"Non… zis cannot be true, I have never um… I would never… you see…" Stammered Francis. "Who was her mother? I do not know zis..?"

"Adelene Dupont. Remember now? " Antonio growled in a deep voice. "She lived a few blocks away from your fucking studio, she worked for you. You slept with her, how can you not remember?"

"I don't… it was so long ago…" Francis uttered. "A lady called Adelene used to source some materials for me, for my artworks… but… I never slept with her, and I didn't even flirt with her, because I thought she was seeing…. I… I thought…"

"What is it Francis?" Arthur asked, looking very emotional. He could have cried but lots of people would be watching and that would never do.

"I thought she was seeing Gilbert…" He uttered. "Then she just disappeared, I thought Gilbert had dumped her…"

There was a long, shocked silence in the room as it became clear who Sofia's real father was, and why he hadn't shown any of the letters to Francis, and why he hadn't responded. Francis had obviously let Gilbert handle his affairs and he hadn't passed any correspondence on to him.

The Judge sat there dumbstruck as was everyone else. Arthur reached out and took Francis' hand in his own.

"Well this puts everything in a new light." The Judge remarked. "No need for any sort of trial now, and I trust you do not wish to continue with your allegations Mr Carriedo?"

"No… no I don't." He said in a resigned tone.

"I declare a mistrial." The Judge replied. "However, this revelation does not excuse your actions Mr Carriedo, and Mr Vargas, such crimes hold a custodial sentence of two years apiece."

"I understand." Antonio replied.

"Fuck…" Groaned Romano, shaking his head. "You should have gone with my idea." He mumbled.

Meanwhile Gilbert had escaped France entirely, and was driving his Volkswagen somewhere near the Franco/German border, listening to 99 Luftballons on his car radio. He'd smoked too much and drank too much, and he was weaving all over the road. Yes he knew he was responsible, and he was skipping the country, and skipping court. He knew he had deliberately held back the letters and correspondence about Sofia, he had known for years, and he thought he might get away with it. Suddenly a large tree appeared from nowhere and Gilbert found himself driving right into it and unable to stop. "Sheisse!" He screamed and put his hands up to protect his face. The car hit the tree at great speed, it crumpled like paper, and wrapped itself around. It was absolute carnage, twisted metal and smoke. Gilbert was dead. All that remained was the crashed and broken car, still playing 99 Luftballons over and over.

Arthur and Francis exited the court, feeling completely deflated, but free of Antonio's revenge for the first time in years.

"I can't believe it…" Francis uttered as they made their way down the steps towards their car. "All this time he thought that little girl was mine… and Gilbert was her father… "

"I know… its mind boggling… that never even crossed my mind when I found that certificate. I was thinking maybe she was motivation somehow but never this…" He said. "One thing's for certain… " He said "Now you are free… and we can live the life we always wanted."

Antonio and Romano were taken to a cell to await transport to prison, and their witnesses were sent home as a mistrial was declared. Romano was mostly silent and hardly spoke, but anyone could see he was in the biggest mood and very annoyed with Antonio.

"Romano, it was all I could do… the gig was up." He said "There was no point…"

"I told you, you should have let me get a hit man." He growled. "Don't think I'm going to be your friend in prison!" He grumbled. "Who the fuck is Gilbert?"

"Francis' agent. Didn't you know?" Antonio replied. "It never occurred to me that he might be…the father… not for a minute."

As they stood outside the courthouse Francis turned to Arthur and hugged him tight. He was quite subdued, but more relaxed than he had been in a long time. "I think we should sell the studio, and the gallery… and move to that little village we were talking about." Francis said as the snow began to fall. Winter had arrived and it looked like it might be a bad one this year.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Arthur asked. "I kind of enjoy working with you at your studio… and … I don't really want to go University now that I have the best teacher the world could ever offer." He said. "Shouldn't give up everything just because of this horrible mess…that is now sorted out."

Francis grinned and kissed him. "You want to continue?" He chuckled. "Alright, we can do that… and work on a new exhibition…"

"Of course my love…" Arthur replied. "We should start right away…"

Everything seemed to have worked out in their favour, but neither of them had spotted the dark car that had pulled up opposite the courthouse, or the man inside dressed in black, who had been ordered to be there at that time. Many people were milling around outside the courthouse, just getting on with their business and no one, not a single person was expecting anything to happen. Suddenly and without warning the sounds of machine gun fire filled the air and someone threw an explosive into the crowd. Everyone scattered, or got down on the ground, there was screaming and confusion everywhere, and somehow in the chaos Francis lost Arthur. There were too many people around, and he just couldn't see him anywhere. In shock he cried out for him. "Arthur! Where are you?" He cried, running around, looking for him. The machine gun fire continued for a little while longer, and he had to hide by a wall to dodge the fire.

In the cells they could hear what was happening outside. Antonio looked at Romano in shock and surprise and sort of disbelief. "You didn't hire a hitman did you Romano?" He asked. Romano didn't reply, but sat there staring at the floor.

Meanwhile Francis still couldn't find Arthur in the chaos. The authorities arrived on the scene and got everything under control, and finally he spotted him, just looking a bit dazed and confused, sitting on a bench. "Arthur!" He cried and ran over to him, sitting down beside him. "Thank God… there you are Mon Amour! Thank goodness you're okay." He said and sighed. "I was so worried… this is a carnage… people have died…" He uttered, devastated. "But I think they caught the perpetrator…" He said. "I think they got him."

"That's good…" Arthur said and nodded.. chuckling a little. He looked very distant, something was wrong but Francis didn't realise it at first.

"Well… we sorted everything out at last…" He said "… and we can have a good life…"

Arthur laughed a little and then raised his hands to his eyes and cried.

"Arthur?" Francis said as he moved to put his arms around him. As he looked he saw something that alarmed him in ways that were indescribable. His black waistcoat was dark enough to hide it but he could see it, dark red blood staining his chest.

"Is that your blood?" He gasped. "I SAID… IS THAT YOUR BLOOD?"

In a panic, Francis ripped open his waistcoat to reveal his shirt stained a deep red and at least six bullets had been pumped into his body. Arthur fell forward into his arms and blood spilled from his mouth.

"Oh Arthur!" Gasped Francis holding him close, the full reality of it sinking in. "It's alright… we'll get you to a hospital"

"No… its too late…" Arthur replied. "Francis... its too late..." He sighed as his body went limp in Francis' arms


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now the Epilogue. I had to go for a spiritual type of ending here, think Wuthering Heights, think.. Little Match Girl.. those kinds of things.. I am so bad to kill everybody off like this, apologies, but enjoy the angst and tragedy if that's at all possible.

Francis got back to the studio quite late that night, after walking miles in the snow and freezing cold. When he got there, he saw that the door had been broken into, and as he went in, he saw that someone had smashed all of his artworks, sculptures and paintings that were on display, and left his gallery in chaos. He stood there surrounded by the mess, and remnants of what used to be fine artworks. Someone must have taken a baseball bat and smashed everything. Who, what or why? He didn't know, and right now he didn't care, because his mind was filled with memories of the past few days, which he replayed over and over in his mind.

He already knew it would be too late, but somewhere inside he'd believed that maybe, just maybe Arthur would pull through, but the doctors did everything they could for him, and nothing worked. He would never forget seeing his cold dead body lying on that hospital bed. For hours he just sat there with him not knowing how much time had gone by. It might have been a day, or it might have been three days, he didn't know and he didn't care. Even when they came to take his body to the mortuary, he still sat there, numb with shock. He didn't even remember walking home but with no coat on and the temperatures being whatever degrees below zero, he was absolutely freezing , and just staring into nothingness, Arthur's blood still on his wrinkled shirt. The mess of the gallery with everything broken didn't have any effect on him at all. As he looked around however, he saw something that immediately brought a tear to his eye. There on the floor, was Arthurs little scuffed sketchbook he'd been carrying when Francis first met him that spring. It must have fallen out of some upturned drawer and ended up on the floor. The sound of the wind howling outside, the freezing temperatures and the dim light of the gallery seemed to be having an effect on his mind somehow as Francis knelt down in the mess and picked up the sketchbook. He could hear Arthur's voice in his head like a memory echoing through time. That day he'd first met him in the Louvre was in his thoughts "I'm so sorry Monsieur Bonnefoy…" He thought he heard him say, as he opened up the sketchbook and looked at all the scuffed and ripped sketches that Arthur had taken time to draw so carefully. "You've been my idol for a long time, it upsets me to know you're hurt…" he heard as clear as day as he remembered that first day Arthur came to the studio. He kept looking through the sketchbook right to the end and then closed it, holding it to his chest and finally, that numbness and shock gave way to tears, dreadful, heart wrenching tears, as his heart broke a thousand times in his chest. He remembered kissing him, his responsive body, the way he would love him back with such purity, and depth, and how he'd defended him when no one else would, how he'd believed in him enough to help him… how could death be so cruel as to take him away?

Francis cried as he'd never cried in his whole life, from his heart and soul and he hugged that sketchbook as if it was Arthur himself, and in fact to him it was, because each sketch was a unique representation of his personality.

Some inner feeling made him look to the window and there he saw something, through the frozen glass, someone was there, a cold white porcelain hand reached forward, touching the window pane. He couldn't quite explain it but somehow he thought it might be Arthur, even though he knew he had passed away. Taking the sketchbook with him he walked, then he ran, out of the door, but there was nobody there, only the cold frosted and snowy streets of Paris, the wind howling in the deathly silence, and yet, as he looked around he thought he saw him, and he was walking away from him, down an alleyway. It had to be him, that was Arthur, he would know him anywhere.. Immediately he followed him down the alleyway, and continued to follow, not even thinking about why Arthur wasn't turning round or stopping, all he knew was that he had to follow him.

"Wait!" He called out "Wait… Arthur… Wait!"

He kept following him, running through the streets of Paris, and it seemed easier somehow, as if the cold was disappearing, and instead of feeling utterly devastated, Francis felt the light in his heart shine again, and he kept following Arthur, so light on his feet, as if he wasn't even walking through snow at all… then as he got to the Louvre pyramid, he couldn't see Arthur anywhere, just the enormous glass pyramid, where they'd first met. He could hear the song "Le Sud" which was their tune, playing somewhere, just lightly in the background and getting a little louder. He turned around and there as if from nowhere, Arthur stood in front of the pyramid with his back turned to him. Francis tentatively walked forward and reached out to touch his arm. He turned around quickly as if waking from a dream.

"Are….are you real?" Francis asked "Is it you?"

"I feel like me…" He said softly, his gentle English accent, the same as it always was.

Francis stood there with his hair blowing in the cold icy wind, completely over awed by the vision of his love standing before him. He reached out to him again and handed him his sketchbook, Arthur took it and smiled. "I remember this." He said and looked thoughtful, as if he was trying to remember something else.

Francis wept deeply, tears running freely down his cheeks, and his heart beating far too fast. But Arthur looked up again as if waking from a dream. "Don't cry Francis…" He whispered "We are eternal now."

"What do you mean?" He asked and looked at Arthur, he was looking at a point behind him and so, Francis followed his gaze, only to see his own body, lying frozen in the cold snow near the pyramid. He turned back to Arthur and realised it didn't hurt anymore, and although he was initially confused, as Arthur took his hand, they melted into a deep kiss, and both of them vanished.

It was the next day before someone found the body of Francis Bonnefoy, the great artist, dead in front of the Louvre gallery, clutching the little sketch book that once belonged to Arthur Kirkland.


End file.
